Feather Flight
by Lunar
Summary: Kuja discovers the end of Zidane's story for him is life rather than death, but it is in a place and way that he could never have imagined. Will he repeat his past? Or become the hero of his own story. Alternate Universe. Shonenai/homosexual themes.
1. When Even the Stars Are Falling

**Feather Flight**: "When Even the Stars are Falling." (part 1)  
A Kuja Alternate-Universe fic

* * *

// Give me a sign. Lord... just one sign.//  
  
The small boat tossed and spun as the storm-driven waves pushed it first one way, than another. The sail was in tatters and provided little use aside to barely control the wildly swaying boom. Laying on the deck, grinning at the violent storm, a gaunt figure stared up at the dark sky. Another tall wave swept the ship causing it to tilt wildly, but still the man did nothing. Shaking the sea water from his eyes he watched the lightening fork and felt the hard rain pelt with bruising force over his exhausted body, waiting.  
  
// Do I live? Or do I die...? I don't know anymore... I can't see the end like I used to. I don't know my purpose. So I'm leaving it to you... ok? Lord, if you mean for me to keep going... if my life is to have /any/ use to anyone... then show me. If not, then let the sea take me. At least it would be a clean death, a warrior's death. This broken shell and spirit deserve at least that small consideration I think... I have failed you... failed everyone... but I leave it in your hands. //  
  
Laro shifted himself to lie more comfortably against the slick wooden deck. The sea had not yet managed to toss him free of the little craft. The fishing boat was sturdily built, but battered as it was, it would only be time until neglected, it took on too much water, and capsized. He felt faintly guilty at the idea, the boat was stolen after all. Tomorrow some poor fisherman would discover its wreckage scattered along the shore. Life was full of such insults, but the man would recover his loss, and Laro would be long past caring by then. With any luck, the ocean would swallow him whole.  
  
The chill water and rain were succeeding in leaching the feverish heat from his recent wounds and newly healing bones. For the first time since his capture, he felt almost free of pain. Only the ever present throbbing of his joints reminded him of how much his weak body should've been protesting this continued abuse.  
  
// Broken... Failure... Useless... I understand, Lord. Take your revenge, I'll accept, and gladly. //  
  
Vague memories of his childhood rose in his mind, most full of a tender joy he could now barely comprehend. He could almost see the children running along the wide sandy beaches of his home, their parents working near by repairing the nets. He could almost hear his own light laughter; feel the sand beneath his toes; the sun, so bright and golden, beating down on his face.  
  
Laro closed his eyes, willing the memory to stay. Those had been happy times, before the Selwe came, before the never-ending war. The thought brought out /another/ memory despite his every attempt to suppress it, the same beach, but at night. There had been no moon, the beautiful stars were hidden by smoke, but he could remember looking around and picking out the terrified faces with fearful clarity. They all were illuminated by the cherry red glow of the fires as the small town burned to ash.  
  
The soldier remembered watching the flames, even as he shepherded the younger children to shelter, letting the memory of the town, and the dead, etch itself into his memory. He would never allow himself to forget, it was the day his childhood ended. Laro let the rain wash away the few tears he had the energy to summon, willing to wait as long as it took for the little boat to finally surrender to the elements. He would not jump, that would be cowardly.  
  
// And simply doing nothing and letting death claim you /isn't/?! //  
  
// It's out of my hands...//  
  
// The Lord only helps those who helps themselves. You've told people that all your life! //  
  
// Hardly matters /now/ does it? Besides, I doubt I can even /move/... It was hard enough to even make it to the boat, to get it in the water... /standing/... with a twice-broken leg, on a sea like /this/? Even if I managed it... I'd never have the strength to steer the thing... //  
  
His cynical self-evaluation was slowly interrupted as reality once more made itself known, and for a moment he was confused. At first he could make out a new sound, a high pitched shrieking that made itself known even above the noise of the storm and the waves. It was accompanied by a blazing red light, one that washed over his closed eyes; uncertain if he was hallucinating he opened them, expecting to see the village burning once more. After a moment of disorientation, he comprehended that both the noise, and the light, were coming from the /sky/. Something was falling.  
  
He stared in idle curiosity as the storm raged on, the grey sky above him turned first purple, then an angry red as whatever it was punched through. Finally, it broke through the under layer of cloud, the sound of its fall now a roar. If he squinted Laro could just barely make out the core of light from amidst the massive fiery umbra and tail. More of a meteorite than a missile, he smiled in wonder as it plummeted towards him.  
  
// Well if death by sea is too mundane a punishment, /this/ will certainly be note worthy... //  
  
The small falling star drew closer, forcing him to look away as the brightness became too much for his tired eyes. He shielded his face from the inevitable. With a rush of scalding air, and a tremendous splash, the large meteorite hit water not one hundred feet from his boat. The soldier sat up in disbelief, peering through the rain and steam towards the distant patch of water.  
  
// It... /missed/...? //  
  
He began to laugh again, not caring how hysterical it sounded. He wasn't sure if he was angry, or grateful. Clinging to the rail he rode out the next wave crest, shaking the water from his eyes to attempt to keep the steaming impact point in sight. A flash of silver white caught his eye. He blinked, certain his tired eyes were lying. The distance was too great. The storm was too heavy. It /couldn't/ be. Laro stared again, it was. He watched in amazement as a slim arm broke to the surface again, its owner vainly trying to cope with the rough seas. In the middle of the still steaming area of surf, someone was trying to keep afloat, and failing. He bit off a curse as the reality of what he was seeing sank in.  
  
The person was drowning.  
  
The errant boom, so long ignored, swung back around with vicious force and caught him across the shoulder, sending him sprawling to the wooden deck. He shook off the pain with long experience, pushing it aside in favor of the mission plainly in front of him. He would need rope, lots of rope, and a miracle.

* * *

  
// Imbecile... You /are/ do you know that? You're a moron, how the hell did you ever convince anyone to /ever/ let you lead an army?! //  
  
Gasping for air, Laro forced his tired limbs to not only tread water but to push him forward through the rough surf. The rope attaching him back to the wildly bobbing boat felt like heavy chain as it dragged in the water behind him. His stinging eyes could barely make out the destination. He was going almost entirely by feel. The water grew warmer as he drew close to where he thought he had seen the body, but he could make out nothing. He was almost at the end of his tether.  
  
// What sort of lunatic would come out in the middle of the ocean to commit suicide, then decide to rescue a meteorological phenomena instead... for all you know, it could be one of /them/. //  
  
He shuddered at the memory of the endless weeks in the Selwe camp; the ceaseless cycle of torture and neglect.  
  
// Why is it so surprising... Haven't I always been the fool to risk all to save another...? I can face the thought of my own death with apathy, but I cannot bear to see someone die, not without at least /trying/... I know they were around here somewhere... //  
  
Before another wave could swamp him, and before the little remaining portion of his sanity could object, Laro took in a deep breath and dove beneath the murky water.  
  
// Please... Please still be here... I couldn't bear it if... //  
  
He could make out little in the dark water save for the shimmer of bubbles below him. The soldier grimly angled his dive accordingly, and surprisingly, felt his fingers brush against /someone/. Fumbling for a better grip, he struggled his burden to the surface. Laro secured the body to his chest with one arm, and slowly, /slowly/ worked his way back towards the relative safety of the ship. His body was shaking almost uncontrollably when he finally was able to cling to the craft, fatigue causing his vision to fade in-and-out with the rocking motion of the waves.  
  
Later on he would be unable to recall by what inhuman force he was able to get himself back into the boat, but he accomplished it, and began to rigorously force the water out of the boy's lungs. The boy -for so he seemed- at length began to cough, clearing the remaining fluid from his chest. Large blue eyes fluttered open to gaze blankly up but the darkness was now near perfect, Laro could barely make out their color and form by the light of the flickering lightening. His features were remarkably feminine. The illusion was assisted by the wild mass of shimmering hair. If he hadn't felt the smooth muscled chest under him, the soldier would have doubted his initial assumption. He flinched at the look in the wide eyes, terror. Delicate hands moved to ineffectually push him away, too weak to do more then brush against his tired arms.  
  
"You're going to be alright!" The storm nearly swallowed Laro's hoarse shout. He wasn't certain that the boy heard him at all, but it didn't seem to matter. The pale face seemed to stare in wonder a moment then fall slack, eyes slipping closed.  
  
// Three-quarters drowned, and probably a concussion from hitting the water, not to mention gods know what might be broken... He needs help.../now/... //  
  
The soldier smiled grimly at the stupidity of the statement, staring at the outlines of the leaden waves all around him.  
  
// Well, if we survive the storm, and the boat doesn't sink... well, /then/ I'll worry about getting us home... /somehow/. //  
  
Fumbling in the tiny hold, he came up with a largish tarp, and methodically began to first wrap it around their sodden forms then lash it to the small deck. If they didn't get swept overboard, and if they didn't freeze, there was a chance.  
  
// God? If this is your idea of a sign... you've got a sick sense of humor. But I have to admit... it worked... //  
  
Laro wrapped his arms around the frail body, trying to impart his meager warmth to his unconscious companion. // I can hardly go and die /now/... how horribly inconvenient... //  
  
He rested his forehead against the damp hair, feeling himself surrender to absolute exhaustion. The skin was smooth to touch, if a little cold.  
  
// I think I inhaled too much water... I almost can swear that I smell... cinnamon... // The bemused though followed him into roaring darkness.

* * *

  
Every muscle in his body ached. Laro cracked an eyelid with effort. The faint sound of seagulls triggered some vital realization deep in his tired brain. A warm breath gently ruffled his hair, and he marveled at the sensation, as well as that of the lithe form pressed against his, and the too-hot sun attempting to burn his back. His throat when he swallowed forcibly reminded him that attempting to drink sea water was something he should've known better than to try.  
  
// Then the bloody stuff should've stopped trying to shove its way down my throat... By the nine hells, I /hurt/... //  
  
The soldier fully expected to be bruised from head to foot, bit cautiously tensing each muscle, he was glad to feel that no new bones were broken, or re-broken.  
  
// Another day... another scar. //  
  
He forced his body to move, and muzzily untangled himself first from the sticky strands of silver hair that seemed to be /everywhere/, and then from the remains of the shredded sail. It took some time. The day was brilliant. In the nature of sudden squalls, the incredibly violent weather had blown itself out in a little over twelve hour; a single night transforming the deadly sea into a picturesque blue paradise. Rubbing the salt from his eyes, he was amazed to see that they had been carried /towards/ land by the massive waves, floating calmly within the sedate waters of the large bay. If he concentrated he could almost make out the tiny city on the shore. His parched lips cracked with his smile but he didn't care, turning his face into the warm sunlight like a child.  
  
// So I guess, the answer is "Live." Right...? /Right/. //  
  
Laro stared undaunted at the distance to the shore, now that his choice was made he felt nothing but an overwhelming sense of calm.

* * *

  
  
Somehow the ragged man managed to avoid carefully studying his sleeping passenger for several energetic minutes. There were scraps of rope to be knotted and strung, a small sail to jury rig, and water to bail; all were activities that happily consumed most of his limited resources. It wasn't until he felt the first gust of wind fill the crude sail, and settled back to the deck to man the tiller that he really took the time to /look/ at what the ocean had brought him. What he saw took his breath away. The boy was simply /beautiful/.  
  
Laro felt himself staring at the sleeping form, but barely glanced away long enough to check that his heading was true before his eyes were riveted once more. The long strands of hair, definitely silver, glistened in the morning sun, spilled over the deck in a loose tumult. He blinked a moment, but his eyes proved true, tangled amongst the strands, as if they belonged there, silver feathers curled and fluttered in the breeze. His brain accepted the information, but was still too punch-drunk to decipher the meaning. Eyes did not need conscious thought to guide them however as they admiringly traced over the smooth lines of the body. The sheltering tarp had been claimed as sail, and with his clothes in rags, there was little to be left to the imagination.  
  
// You're almost drooling, /stop it/! This is /juvenile/ and you're more than old enough to know better. He's injured for heaven's sake, to even /think/ that he could... that you'd want... It's just not fair... //  
  
Still, it was easy to imagine how the figure would look without the many bruises marring the pale skin. The graceful sweep of the arm as it curled under his body, the slender calf and leg -almost entirely exposed by the shredded boot- as were intensely desirable. Even the feline tail, its silver fur ruffling in the sea breeze as it dried, seemed to curl seductively. Its gentle twitching seeming to reflect its owner's dreaming state.  
  
// Wait... /Tail/?! //  
  
Laro stared at the additional appendage in silence for several minutes, attempting to fathom the cause for his distress. Then, finally, it hit him.  
  
// This... he's... He's not human. //  
  
Cold dread raced through his veins along with a heady shot of adrenaline. It couldn't last though; the sleeping form just wasn't a big enough threat for the soldier's tired body to take seriously. The burst of energy did serve to fully awaken the dark man, and he began his study again, this time more serious. The sum and total was a small but telling list.  
  
// Well, he's not Selwe, at least not of any kind I've ever seen, and I've seen them /all/... they'd never stoop to such a 'human' shape... to them 'insect' reigns supreme, even for their constructs. But he's not human either... feathers, tail, and is it just me or does his bone structure look just plain /wrong/. He's just too delicate, but I know there's muscle there too. He's built more like a man than a boy, but he looks no more than seventeen... and a /young/ seventeen at that... //  
  
Laro looked at the fast-approaching shore with a sigh.  
  
// Who are you little one... and where did you come from? // His subconscious was more than happy to give the answer. // From the /sky/ of course... you saw him. Remember? Like a shooting star come to earth, he all but dropped into your lap... like some sort of present... /a present/? //  
  
Eyes wide, the tired man looked at his burden in wonder. // Sort of like... a /sign/... Hmmm? //  
  
He glared at the inoffensive blue sky.  
  
// What the hell does this mean?! //  
  
The fleecy clouds showed no interest in answering.

* * *

  
"May all Saints uphold and preserve us! Nazer Kai! What /happened/! What were you doing in that boat? In the Storm?! We've been looking /everywhere/ for you... I've turned out half the town to comb the beaches... "  
  
The small man's long mustache trembled as he practically bounced up and down with joy. Several fishermen were more than happy to wade into the warm water to guide the little wreck to a safe spot on the beach. Laro grinned sheepishly at the respectfully worried looks that surrounded him, and foolishly attempted to stand. His legs, still but newly mended and then abused by his previous-night's activities, plainly refused to hold his weight and would have sent him down into a heap if not for several strong pairs of hands that bodily held him upright and began to support him towards the clinic.  
  
"Wait!... The boy... Someone grab the boy... He's far worse than I am... I had to pump half the bay out of him... and he's pretty badly beaten up... "  
  
The short doctor had turned back even before Laro had finished his protest, leaning curiously over the still unmoving form in the boat. The mustache twitched again in obvious amazement.  
  
"Well... Well Well... This is most irregular. Nazer Kai...? Might I... "  
  
"Later, Doctor Ing, let it wait till later... He needs help /now/."  
  
"Yes, yes... Of course..."  
  
Another resident of the town, ready with a blanket, gently scooped up the body. The young man moved very carefully, aware of the war-hero's eyes watching his every step, and headed towards the tidy little hospital.

* * *

  
When the orderlies had finished re-bandaging his sore and swollen joints, spread the salves, and watched him drink far more water than he was sure was good for him, Laro was finally given the satisfaction of hobbling quietly into the room next door where the doctor was working. The small man was putting the finishing touches on his newest patient. Turning to see his visitor, he quickly waved the dark man into a chair.  
  
"Please, please... /sit/. You know you shouldn't be putting undue stress on your bones yet... Your little adventure may have caused you irreparable harm!"  
  
"You cluck like a mother-hen. I'm fine, but how is /he/?"  
  
The doctor studied each of his patients in turn, seriously considering the question. "Physically? Aside from certain noted abnormalities... he's fine. Nothing that a week or two in bed won't set a right and plenty of fluids... the same as you..." The older man stared down the guilty soldier.  
  
"...But...?"  
  
"Well, that's the physical problems. He also has a fairly severe concussion... that is what I'm really worried about. Was he conscious at all when you found him?"  
  
The dark man grimaced in distress. "Yeah, barely... He was able to look at me for a second, and then he just sort of passed out. I ... damn it! I should've made sure to try to wake him, but there just wasn't the time. I was too weak..."  
  
"No one blames you Nazer Kai..."  
  
"And how many times have I told you to stop calling me that..."  
  
The doctor combed his mustache in amusement. "You can tell us all you like Great Kai, it won't change who you are. Injured or not, you're still the people's hero. The greatest warlord of the century simply doesn't become an average citizen again, no matter how he may wish to."  
  
"I'm not the greatest /anything/ Dr. Ing, I /lost/, I was /captured/... beaten like a dog, and only after they were /tired/ of me, after I was worthless, only then did they allow me to crawl away... My magnificent 'escape'... what a joke."  
  
"Ah, but you /did/ escape... and it was /how/ you lost... Have you ever considered that you're more popular /now/ than ever before? The people..."  
  
"The people are idiots... enough of that, what about /him/... what happens now?"  
  
Dark eyes watched the steady rise and fall of the chest with worry.  
  
"We must wait. He'll either wake up, or he'll die. There is nothing we can do."  
  
The soldier flinched at the simple prognosis, "If you don't mind, I'd like to sit with him a while."  
  
The small man nodded serenely and shut the door leaving the two patients in silence. Laro watched a moment longer, and then slid his chair along side the narrow bed.  
  
The boy's bruises were liberally coated with an herbal salve, and bandages were apparent around the arm peeking out from under the blanket, but neither of these things made him cringe as much as the most shocking alteration. The mane of silvery hair, that had captivated him even in its tangled state, was gone. Drastically shortened and pushed into odd locks by the variety of bandages swathing the boy's skull, his hair hung forlornly above his delicate ears. The feathers, a seemingly natural part of his appearance, were the solitary reminders of the length that should have been. Their weather beaten plumes lay dejectedly against the pillow. The knight grimaced in sympathy.  
  
// Damn... I suppose it was the only way to clean the wounds quickly... but I bet he really was proud of his hair... it must have taken a long time to get that to that length... //  
  
A silky touch brushed against his barefoot and nearly caused him to jump. The silvery tail, now sporting a small bandage of its own, continued its mindless twitching.  
  
// Just like a cat... it never stops, not really... //  
  
On a whim he reach down and gently caught the curling appendage. The dense fur was softer than any pelt he had encountered, and delighted he allowed it to slip through his fingers, only to catch it again. He watched it as it instinctively responded to his grip, alternately trying to free itself and caressing his arm.  
  
// I wonder what it must be like to have a tail... //  
  
He let it go at last, and returned to studying the sleeping features, no longer upset by the erratic barbering.  
  
// You'll have to tell me when you wake up... along with a name... and everything /else/... //  
  
"Wake up soon, ok?"  
  
Laro smiled at the humor of having an infatuation with a person he'd yet to actually /meet/.  
  
// Well, that can be corrected... and once he forgives us for lopping off his hair... Maybe... maybe I can start to figure out why you came, and why it seems that you were meant... for me.//

* * *

* * *

notes: What is the best way to make Kuja likable in a fic? Don't give him any lines! Muahahaha.... No seriously, I know what I'm doing.... I think... And Laro's really quite central to this silly little Shonen-ai bit of fluff so he might as well get some quality screen time as Kuja's angst will take over pretty soon. I like Laro... he's... a doof. But a well meaning one! Stay tuned for more decadent thought provoking WAFF. In CH2. "I want to see your smile."

Lunar

http://www.roodinverse.dreamhost.com


	2. I Want to See Your Smile

**Feather Flight: "**I Want to See Your Smile."(part 2)

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

* * *

The rainy season had come and gone, leaving behind a series of endlessly clear and mild days. Having spent the better part of two months virtually trapped indoors, Laro was more than ready for the change. The damp weather had almost crippled his mending body with long days of arthritic agony. He looked optimistically out the window while cautiously stretching, smiling when he felt his joints cooperate for a change. The hallways he silently limped through were quiet and empty. Everyone was already out and about, enjoying the weather. Dr. Ing was carefully tending his plants.

"They seem to have survived the weather..."

The wrinkled man turned and looked up in surprise, squinting against the sunlight. He nodded a greeting at his patient. "Yes, the season was hard, but no harm done. And you? You look more relaxed than usual. How is the pain?"

"Almost gone, a few more days of this... and I'll feel human again." Laro was still obliged to allow the shorter man to claim an arm and test the joints and bone for signs of swelling. His hands still felt weak and clumsy when he tried to make a fist, but compared to previous weeks it was all but painless.

"Good!" The doctor grunted in satisfaction. "There's definite improvement! I suppose there's no need to encourage you to go out and get some exercise... We can't have you losing any more muscle. You'll be all but unrecognizable soon."

"This is a bad thing?" He grinned at the doctor's sour face. "Right, right... I'm going..."

* * *

// It feels so good to be out in the sun again... one more week flat on my back, and I would've been a babbling wreck. //

He idly searched for seashells as he walked the beach, tossing the inferior selections back into the surf. Occasionally one worthy piece would be added to the small collection in his pocket. The good weather was both a blessing and a curse, he mused as he soaked up the sun. Being free from pain was nothing to complain about, but now there were also few excuses to remain indoors. Even if he wanted to stay and 'help', they would likely simply push him outside for his own good. During the days of rain, when his bones had been cooperative, he had happily allowed himself to be employed in the variety of chores around the small hospital. When they didn't need him he would wander the halls, 'visiting' with the scant few patients that were around. More often than not, he found himself spending the long evenings in one bedroom in particular, listening to the rain and the sound of even breathing. In the beginning the nurses had found his dedication to the sleeping man to be odd, but at the doctor's insistence they left him alone. He visited every day. The thin patient never awoke. His sleep --sometimes troubled but most often peaceful-- stretched on during the months of rain. The silver hair had begun to regain a little of its lost length, tickling the pointed chin when not fanned across the pillow. It had been almost five months, and Laro had a sick suspicion he was running out of time.

// He's gotten thinner... he was thin to begin with, but now? It's like he's just wasting away... // The ex-soldier chewed his lip in worry.

// Dr. Ing, everyone, they don't expect him to come back... after five months? They're probably right. So why do I try? Why care? Am I so utterly starved for hope that I cling to this lost-cause despite the odds? Why can't I just let go! // 

His toe caught on a half-buried shell and he stopped to pick it up. The pearly interior glowed with rainbow hues in the cheerful sunlight. Nodding in satisfaction, Laro put it in his pocket. // Maybe I don't know why I care... I just /do/. I can't let this slide... This may be my one chance! He fell from the /sky/! It /has/ to mean /something/! There has to be /something/ to believe in... otherwise there's just the dark... and I don't want to go back there... // He watched in wonder as a pack of children ran down the beach, showering him with sand as they flew past. He waved after their giggling mayhem and received a few shouted greetings. 

// It's not /right/... he's all alone in that room. It's too quiet there, dark, sheltered... He's /sleeping/ damn it, not terminally ill! He should be where there is light, and noise... where there is /life/... He should be made to /want/ to come back, if only to tell us to shut up... Dr. Ing can't do anything... there's nothing more "wrong" with him, aside from that he won't wake... He has no family, no friends... only /me/. Perhaps I do spend too much time with him... but if I didn't... he'd be /alone/. Besides, it's so peaceful there... no matter how shitty I feel, how bad it gets... he's always there, always beautiful. With him I don't have to prove anything... be anyone... I doubt I'll ever tell another living soul some of the things I've told him. But that's the /point/ isn't it? He's practically dead already, I could tell him that I ate children for breakfast and it wouldn't matter, even if he heard me, he couldn't tell... Masa will never repeat /anything/... not about my cowardice, or my nightmares... // 

Laro meditatively ran a finger down the long scar on his face, one of the few still visible signs of his captivity. The only injuries left now were the ones people couldn't see. He /was/ healing, but even now, he made sure that /no one/ truly knew how broken he had been. They would never question the 'truth' he gave them. They needed to believe too much.

// And just as they need me... I need him... //

* * *

He came awake reaching for a weapon that wasn't there. Panting against the terror of being unarmed and alone he sat motionless senses attuned into the darkness, listening for the certain attack. Slowly his wits caught up with his body. // Dream. Fool, it was a dream... you're in the clinic, you're /fine/... so just calm down... // He forced himself to relax slightly and looked down in amusement at the 'weapon' clenched in fist. The pillow looked remarkably ineffective in the moonlight. The soldier tossed it aside and heaved himself out of bed. Silently moving down the dark hallway, he unerringly counted doors until he reached the other occupied room on the floor. Laro felt his jitters fade as he carefully sat on the edge of the narrow mattress. The pale sleeper didn't stir at the intrusion.

"Hey Masa... Sorry to bother you again... funny isn't it? The man who can't sleep always coming to pester the guy who can't wake up... Sorry, sorry, stupid humor... it's late, what do you expect from me at 2 AM?"

The silver-haired man made no sign of response, but none was expected. The soldier took a moment to brush the chin-length hair away from the slack features. He settled himself more comfortably and gently retrieved a thin hand from under the blanket to cradle it in his own.

"I... I had that nightmare again... yeah... /that/ one... the one I always tell you about. It was the raid again... except this time we never even made it to the base of the monolith... we were swamped... they fell on us like a wave. The sound... God, I'll live to be eighty and never forget that sound... like locusts but /worse/. Bah, stupid of me to dwell in the past, I know... And then I woke up ready to /kill/ something... like /usual/... good thing I sleep alone, huh?" He sighed. "I don't know why telling you makes me feel better... I guess I just need to tell /someone/... I can't tell /them/... They'd just get scared, or worried, or preachy... 'Great War Hero's aren't supposed to be scared of the /dark/'... They aren't supposed to wake up crying in terror like children... But you've heard me bitch about all of this before..." Laro smiled gently at the delicate fingers. He made a mental note that the nails were getting long again.

"I'm sorry I didn't come by and visit you this evening. The doctor was having a dinner party and strong-armed me into going... Don't laugh! He's really intimidating for such a little guy... just /you/ try and cross him!" He brushed a loose feather away from the thick eyelashes. "So anyway... I brought you something... want to guess what it is?" He watched the motionless figure for a moment. "No? Well you /could/ you know... I'll give you a hint... 'I brought you one last week.' There, easy huh? Bah, you're a hard man, Masa..." 

Laro fumbled in his robe's pocket and produced the small shell. He admired its shimmering interior once more before placing it on the bed stand with the others. "Yes, I know... how unoriginal... /another/ shell... but this one is really nice... I'll just put it here incase you want to see it later. Maybe I should learn how to make them into jewelry, hmmm? Like those little old women in the market? But my hands aren't much good for delicate work anymore... maybe later, ok?" He sat in silence for a while, watching his sleeping confidante. A familiar tickling touch trailed across his calf.

The dark man looked down to see the tail sweep across his leg again. "There. That's how I know you're still here... if only a little... /you/ may be unable to respond... but /that/ can... like a little cat... if you want to know what they're really thinking; you always look at the tail. The tail never lies!" He nudged the twitching fur with a toe and laughed when it momentarily increased its tempo. Making a little game of it, he nudged it again with the same reaction. At length he caught the silvery appendage and gave it a conciliatory pat.

"Yes, I know... 'Don't play with the tail...' But like I said, it's late. I can't sleep. I'm easily amused... Hey, want to hear a funny story?" He let the tail slip through his fingers in favor of keeping a hold of the hand. "No? Too bad, I'll tell you anyway. I was walking past your room this morning on my way to breakfast... and you know what I heard? Right, right, of course, you were /here/... Well I heard Nurse Didi /talking/ to you... just like I do, telling you about her kids and all... she even called you 'Masa'... did you notice? My stupid nickname for you has caught on! Soon /everyone/ will be calling you that... hope you don't mind...No? Good. I thought it up myself you see..."

The soldier gave the smaller hand a gentle caress. "Do you mind if I doze off for a bit? I promise I'll be quiet... I just don't feel like going back to my room just yet..." The sleeping face stirred for a moment but expressed no particular emotion. "I'll take that as an 'ok', shall I?" Replacing the arm beneath the sheet, Laro dragged a chair closer and slouched into it. He fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

* * *

The ocean wind took the edge off the midday heat as the dark man skillfully guided the small sailboat in a lazy arc around the harbor. The sky was clear, the water was crystalline; it was a /perfect/ day. He stared at his tan hands in wonder. They pulled easily on the ropes, painlessly gripping the damp fibers. The soldier laughed in delight and turned the boat in a new direction, preparing to tack. The boom swung with grace to adjust to the wind. The sail, now off to his right, no longer blocked his view of the prow. Laro looked up and felt his heart give a lurch. Sitting on the fore-most-point, with his legs trailing in the blue water, was /Masa/. A graceful hand was braced for balance against the mast; the long silver hair streamed towards him, caught in the wind. The younger man was staring curiously into the ocean as it passed under the ship. Watching in wonder, the soldier called out, needing to have the man respond, needing to see the delicate features turned in his direction. 

"Masa...?"

The silver head looked up, and /turned/. Laro felt the world fall away as he breathlessly met the curious blue-gaze, feeling the joy bubbling uncontrollably in his chest. This was /impossible/. This was /heaven/. The skin around the eyes crinkled, a prelude to a smile. The blue-depths were filled with loving humor. He felt his own face curve into what was almost certainly a stupid grin, but he didn't care. It was /Masa/. Brushing a stray lock behind an ear, the smaller man /smiled/.

"Laro."

* * *

"Nezar Kai? What ever are you doing /here/? Wake up! Nezar Kai?!"

The soldier came awake with a jump, nearly falling out of his chair as reality rudely intruded on his dream. It was mid morning, and the plump nurse was watching him curiously. Clinging desperately to the rapidly dissolving dream, Laro blinked owlishly at the bustling woman; watching as she began to pull the blankets from Masa's bed.

"Really... sleeping all night in a chair... hardly good for you back now is it? And what's wrong with /your/ bed? Here, make yourself useful..."

The dark man obediently assisted the woman by lifting the frail form from the bed, allowing her to pull the remaining sheets free and replace them. The chore was over all too soon however, and he was obliged to return his precious burden back into the clean blankets. He watched her tuck her patient in with a little smile. "Do you need a hand with anything else?" The round woman eyed him in shock.

"No, Kai! No need to trouble yourself with anything else, we can manage very well, and you should be eating your breakfast! Go eat! Go on! You're not needed here! This one will get his broth at the same time as the others..." She clucked her concern as she bullied the man from the room. "Go, go outside and have a swim, the ocean heals all ills you know... of course you know.... that's why you're /here/... well Come on! Come on!" Laro sighed in defeat and with one last glance at the sleeping form, was herded downstairs.

* * *

Try as he might to put it aside, Masa's smiling face haunted him throughout the long morning. Laro eventually gave up any pretext of being in a social mood and found himself a secluded portion of beach where he could sit and think. The soft sand was warm beneath him as he watched the waves and allowed his thoughts to wander where the would. The fishing boats on the horizon were barely more than white specks, tiny sails contrasting with the surrounding blue.

// I wonder... Maybe someone would let me borrow a boat for the afternoon... // He grinned remembering how the last boat he 'borrowed' took two weeks to repair. The looks on the simple seamen's faces, should he try again, would likely be priceless. 

// Maybe if I promise not to leave the bay... and to only go out in clear weather... in broad daylight... surely some fool would be brave enough to give me a chance... // The dark man rested his chin on his knees. A small crab cautiously crept by. 

//... and maybe I could convince Dr. Ing to allow me to take Masa too...It would be fun, a little adventure for just the two of us... // A seagull's shadow flickered across him as the bird dove towards the beach. It snatched up the frantic crustacean and flapped out to sea with its prize. The crab never had a chance.

"Hey!" Irrationally angry at the bird he threw a rock, but it was beyond reach.

// Oh, /there/ is a positive omen... // 

Laro settled back on the beach feeling suddenly less cheerful. // What am I thinking? Dr. Ing will just look at me blankly and demand that I get another psychiatric examination... He'll decide that I've developed an 'unhealthy fixation'... Then I'd /never/ be able to see Masa... They'd send him away! // The thought made him feel more than a little ill. 

// I'm /not/ crazy... well not in /that/ sense anyway, the rest is debatable... But I /know/ he's not 'awake', Hell I'll even acknowledge the fact that for all I know he could be someone totally reprehensible, or even one of /them/... somehow... But on the other hand, I can't bring myself to truly believe it... Maybe if he woke up... If I could /talk/ to him... then maybe things would make more sense. Oh Hell, maybe I /am/ fixated... /crazy/... People have been telling me that all my life... even /I/ have told myself. Talk about a self-fulfilling prophesy... // 

The soldier shrugged, the dream had motivated him. He was determined to get Masa on the boat, one way or another. As far as he could see, he had two options. The first and saner choice was to place a carefully worded argument before the cautious doctor and abide by the man's decision. The second was to simply abduct the unresisting form from the clinic and deal with the repercussions later. The second option had a distinct allure. 

// On the one hand, it's absolutely insane... People will have ample evidence that I'm completely detached from reality and can't be trusted! On the other hand... It /will/ get Masa on the damn boat. No one will know to refuse, not until it's too late... // Laro sighed, not particularly liking either of his options.

// First things first, go see about borrowing a boat, then go talk to Dr. Ing... if he says 'no'.../Then/ I'll try my hand at kidnapping... After all, what use is insanity if it's only half way? //

* * *

The revered war hero had to talk /very/ fast to get his idea across to the doctor. The small man's eyebrows had risen early in the proposal, and had stayed there. Dr. Ing could find no serious fault with the idea however, and after extracting several assurances about the safety of the venture, gave a cautious approval. It was entirely more than the soldier had been expecting. Feeling victorious for the first time in recent memory, he dove into the preparations for the following morning with gusto.

The doctor tugged his mustache in thought as he watched his stubborn patient carry supplies and badger the nurses. His assistant, a prim woman of no small ability, watched as well. After a few moments she was unable to hold her tongue.

"Do you /really/ think that this is /wise/? The poor boy in room number six is in a /coma/, what possible benefit could this 'outing' be to him?! It will be risking exposure, not to mention that they will be completely unsupervised..."

"I doubt there will be any benefit to Masa at all, but likewise, there would be no harm either... not with the weather as good as it is. But young Masa isn't the issue here, and the Kai /is/..." The nurse sniffed in displeasure at the use of the nickname. "Look at him, Lori. He's /active/, and /happy/... a far cry from how he was a few months ago don't you think? If doting over one sick boy is what is helping him find his center again... then what can it hurt...?"

"I still think it's unhealthy... for /both/ of them... The Kai is too attached! What if the boy should /die/! Will we have a relapse of the depression? And what of his /stories/? He still firmly believes that the man 'fell from the sky'! The Kai is still /ill/, doctor..."

"You don't believe him? I'm curious then to hear /your/ explanation of our visitor in room number six..."

"Are you saying you think he's an 'omen' too?"

"Hmmm."

* * *

It was late morning by the time the little boat was deemed ready for its special cargo. A delegation from the clinic soon arrived. Laro nodded a serious greeting to the doctor and made a show of securing the limp form carefully to the sheltered position near the bow. The slender youth was heavily bundled and would barely feel any potentially hazardous wind, water or sun. The soldier swore one final time on the Ten Sacred Artifacts of Creation that he would take every precaution, and was at length, allowed to leave. Pushing away from the dock with a jaunty wave, Laro sighed in relief.

The small sail carried them briskly into the deeper waters in the middle of the bay, and for a little while the dark man amused himself by practicing childhood maneuvers. The day grew hotter however, and eventually he let the sail go slack. Feeling the stiffness forming in his wrists and fingers he was more than happy to take a break and peel off some of the unnecessary layers. Casting off the wool vest, and rolling up his sleeves, he cast a doubtful look over at the cocooned body on the deck. 

// They've got him wrapped up for the arctic! I wonder how many of those layers are waterproof... Probably /all/ of them... I wanted to get him out of the clinic and expose him to /nature/... not turn him into a human caterpillar... // 

Laro began to methodically unburden his passenger, certain that he would be hearing the screams of dismay later. // Let them. This is worth it. // Spreading the canvas and quilts into a loose bed, and using a corner as a make-shift roof, he created a shady area to lay the sleeping man down in. The soldier sat near by and admired his handiwork. Someone had thought to dress the youth in the variety of odds-and-ends that the clinic had for its visitors. The clothing was far too large for the slim body. The pants, if left un-rolled, probably would have swallowed the feet with fabric to spare; the shirt sleeves were much the same. The over-sized clothing, combined with the child-like features completely ruined any image of maturity Masa might have possessed.

// Well... he's here...//

"Hey... it's lunch time... You hungry?

The nurses hadn't bothered to provide Laro with any of the variety of broths and medicines that they usually spooned into their patient. The general consensus had been that the boy would be fine for the afternoon. The dark man raked his hair back in frustration before shrugging it off. He reached for the small basket near by.

"I packed far more than /I/ can eat... but I guess if you were hungry, you wouldn't tolerate that bland soup that they keep feeding you, huh? God knows I was tired of it after two days... and I had to eat it for a month!" He pulled out a piece of chicken and chewed happily.

Taking the opportunity to relax out on the water, the soldier gingerly borrowed a corner of the 'bed' and stretched himself out. The warm sun was slowly baking the soreness from his joints. He found that the rocking motion of the boat lulled him into a sense of peace. Beside him, his companion seemed to be having an active dream. The tail twitched restlessly and the elegant eyebrows were pinched, unhappy. 

// This... this is more 'awake' then he's looked in months... not since that last major storm... This isn't good, I didn't bring him out here to give him nightmares... // Hesitating for a moment, Laro reached over and smoothed the feathered-hair back from the worried features. The gesture seemed to work for a moment, soothing the tense features. When he pulled his hand away, the tail resumed its nervous movements.

"Hey... don't be frightened... I'd never let anything happen to you... calm down!" He tried to keep his voice soothing as he inched closer, trying to calm the restless sleeper. Trying not to think of how the actions would be interpreted by those back on shore should they ever find out, the dark man gently pulled Masa into a loose embrace, settling the silvery head on his shoulder. Lying in his side to curl around the smaller body as much as possible, Laro sought to shelter the man from whatever his dreams were threatening. His murmured litany continued until the form in his arms ceased shivering. Hating himself, he closed his eyes and reveled in the momentary closeness; the feathers tickling his chin. There was a soft touch on his wrist where it lay across the smaller body; the tail gently curled over and around his arm. He listened to the ocean, and simply allowed himself to feel Masa's warmth pressed against his chest. 

Laro was uncertain how long they lay together in the warm shade, but he was instantly aware of when change occurred. The lax form in his arms seemed to stir once more, but instead of a return to the nightmare inspired muttering, it grew still and silent. If not for the suddenly too-controlled nature of the breathing, Laro would have assumed that the boy had fallen into a deeper sleep. At first he was uncertain, choosing to lie still, allowing the small clues to gather in his mind. The altered breathing, the tentatively-tensed muscles, even the general absence of the previous lazy atmosphere all added up to /something/. Something had happened. Unable to resist, he pulled away slightly and looked down at his companion. Only the fact that he had been preparing for it kept him from actively voicing his surprise. He convulsive swallowed his acknowledgement of the wide blue eyes that met his. Masa was awake.

As if the look had broken some spell, slender hands suddenly sprung into action. They pushed violently on his chest, causing him to roll back and hit the deck with a startled, "Umph!" Before he could get his own muscles to cooperate, the quick-silver form had already bolted from the blankets to frantically scrabble across the deck to the far end of the ship. Laro rolled to his feet to stare in amazement at the huddled form clinging to the rail. He moved closer only to realize it was a mistake. Cerulean eyes tore away from their dismayed study of the ocean to watch him guardedly once more. 

"You stay the Hell away from me!"

* * *

* * *

notes: Oh look, he spoke, well... there goes the cuteness... just kidding, there's more WAFF for everyone! Yeay! Anyway, now that both of them are awake... I can drag us into the plot... hurray... I think. Next time we see Kuja attempt to cope with this new world, and the aftermath of the events on Gaia! Stay tuned for next chapter, "Eyes Staring in Wonder" 

Lunar

http://www.roodinverse.dreamhost.com


	3. Eyes Staring in Wonder

**Feather Flight: **"Eyes Staring in Wonder"(part 3)

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

* * *

"You... Just... Stay Away!" 

Laro hastily fell back from his uncertain approach, something oddly threatening in the younger man's odd gesture. The silver-haired youth's expression was a mix of confusion and panic as he flicked his fingers up to his forehead and pointed at him. The soldier held still as the newly-awakened man stared first at him, then at his hands and then back at him again, perplexed. His growl faded into a choked sob of disappointment. Laro blinked and firmly told his heart to slow down and resume its customary position in his chest. Keeping his voice mild, he attempted to regain control of the situation.

"I'm not going to hurt you! Nobody's going to bloody hurt you! Just calm down OK?... Merciful Tir!"

"Who?" Masa looked up from his worried investigation of his hands.

"...Never mind..." Laro deliberately slouched down until he was sitting against the side of the ship. "Look... I have an idea... I'm going to sit here, and if you'd just sit there... maybe we can have a nice civilized conversation? I mean... even if you do know how to swim, I doubt you could get far if you jumped... and I don't feel much like pulling you out again. So please...? Please just sit down." 

Blue eyes narrowed and studied him cautiously as the thin hands clenched into the overly baggy clothing. For a moment it looked as though the young man was going to jump, and Laro tensed in preparation to go after him, but the moment passed and the slim form warily sank to the deck. The voice when it came, was calmer and almost melodic.

"Where am I...? What has been done to me...? Are we enemies? Where /am/ I...?"

The soldier blinked at the rapid barrage of questions. The cat-tailed man was once more staring at his hands. "'What has been done to you?' Nobody's done /anything/... none of /us/ anyway... You... You don't remember anything do you...?" He received an icy glare in answer to his question. "I'm sorry... I don't know what to tell you." Laro pointed towards the coast, "That's our town... Osa-Roule... You were found out here... in the ocean... You were hurt... You don't remember?"

"...No... How long...? How long ago was this?" Shaking hands raked back through the feathered hair, only to fumble in shock as he measured its new length. Masa looked up at him in alarm. "And what happened to my hair?!"

" Six months... and it's a long story."

Rubbing his face again, the frail man fell silent, watching the waves glide past the small boat. Laro slowly moved to unfurl the sail and coax the vessel back towards town. "It's going to be ok, you'll see... people here were really worried about you... The Doc' will want to check you out for sure..."

"The what...?"

"Doc... doctor... you know him..."

"No... actually... I don't." The expression was one of defeat. "Funny... I don't even know your name." The soldier glanced over at the quiet statement. Masa was staring at him with a sort of morbid curiosity.

"You didn't ask." He resisted the urge to smile at the younger man's confused expression. The expressive mouth opened and shut once before pressing into an almost-smile.

"... Excuse me... But what is your name...?"

This time the dark man did smile. "Laro... Nazer, Laro. Pleased to meet you."

"Oh." The blue eyes returned to watching the coast, but for some reason, the soldier felt suddenly and completely happy. 

// Masa... //

* * *

The little boat coasted gently and uneventfully to a stop against the wharf. It wasn't until some of the younger boys of the village moved to assist in tying it down that the uproar began. Laro winced as first one jaw dropped, then another, the villagers and waiting nurses gaping in shock. Despite Masa's earlier bluster the smaller man was quick to slide into the dubious shelter provided by the taller soldier's shoulders. He warily watched his unwanted audience while the dark man held up his arms for silence. 

"Hush! Enough, it's not like you haven't seen him before..."

"He's awake!"

"It's a miracle"

"It's devilry!"

"He's one of /them/!"

"Don't be idiots!" Laro's angry bark brought the crowd to a shivering silence; their fear of him warring with their desire to debate the new arrival. "He's not one of /them/. That is the end of /it/, am I understood?" The fishermen gave their grudging assent. "Good. Now then, Paul, here's your boat back, and thank you. I'm just going to take my friend here to the hospital to have him looked at... I'm sure you all have something /better/ to do than gawk like children?" He turned away from the slowly disbursing crowd and resisted the urge to rub the tension from his neck. Pulling rank always gave him headaches. 

"Well... wasn't that fun." Masa had slumped against the mast behind him breathing deeply and ignoring the light sarcasm. "Hey now... you ok?"

"I..." The silver-haired man grimaced slightly and opened his eyes. "I'm fine."

"Are you always this bad a liar?" The dark man grinned at the startled expression. "Come on, waking-up is great and all, but if I don't get you back soon they'll have my head." He nodded his head in the direction of the jittery hospital staff. The frail man nodded once and gingerly staggered to his feet, waiving off the concerned hand. Masa didn't take more than ten steps however before a telltale wobble alerted the soldier that the man was about to collapse. It was a moment's reflex that found the soldier striding across the deck to sweep him up, carrying him over the side and onto dry-land. 

"Come on then." Laro gestured curtly at the orderlies who were once more frozen in surprise. The man in his arms remained tense and silent for several seconds as they headed away from the docks.

// Six months... idiot, of course he wouldn't be able to walk properly... I'm surprised he could even stand!... Back on the boat, and then at the dock, that must have been pure adrenaline, and pride. As if he was expecting a fight... What are you so afraid of little cat? 'Are we enemies?'... Who are you running from...? //

"Put me down." The voice was soft but the command was unmistakable.

// So, the little cat has claws...? Or at least thinks he does... nothing seems to rattle him for long. //

"I could do that..." Laro continued to walk smoothly up hill towards the clinic. "It /would/ be a little pointless though, don't you think?" His unwilling passenger fell silent again.

"We're not friends." The soldier raised an eyebrow at the unprovoked statement. Masa was resting his head against his chest, eyes closed. 

"What?"

"Back there, you said I was your friend, I'm not." 

"Oh... Well it was a figure of speech, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Laro rolled his eyes as his answer provoked another long pause. 

"I wasn't uncomfortable, but it is in poor taste to make assumptions about people."

"I see..." The soldier was beginning to feel perplexed at the odd conversation. "Are you saying you don't want to be my friend?"

"... I don't know you. Besides, you don't /want/ to be my friend."

"Why not?" 

"I... " Ageless blue eyes blinked open and briefly looked up at him. "Never mind."

"You /are/ a strange one, Masa." Laro cheerfully huffed his confusion as he waited for someone to open the door for him. The rest of the conversation was put on hold as the compound burst into startled activity.

* * *

Kuja remained seated quietly on the bed for several minutes after the last orderly had shut the door, his borrowed clothes still folded in a neat bundle beside him. He sat perfectly still, a silent testament to his will as the rest of him demanded that he scream or sob or curl into a small ball and shiver. It would cost him the remains of his pride to admit he was terrified, and pride was all he had left. Finally unbending from the ridged pose as he was left undisturbed, he allowed himself the luxury of curling slightly, bringing his knees up under his chin. The treacherous tail curled around his legs and protectively over his toes. The tip still twitched intermittently in anxiety.

"Stop that," he murmured, knowing it was futile. 

// What sort of place /is/ this...? It's not Gaia, that's for certain... nor Terra neither... I don't think any of these people have ever seen /anything/ that wasn't a 'full human' before... They kept asking 'how is this possible'... as if I'm going to reveal Garland's secrets to them...//

// But then Garland is dead now. //

// But then, aren't I supposed to be dead too? // 

The silver-haired man tried to force the memories to come. There was the final battle, the fall, Zidane coming to 'rescue him'. // That idiot, never knows when to leave well enough alone, just has to stick his neck out... be noble... self-righteous, overbearing, naive, kind hearted, pathetic, honorable, /twit/. Did you survive too Zidane? Of course you did, just in time for the 'Epilogue' and the 'Happily Ever After'... I bet you even let that little girl of yours have her 'fairy-tale' wedding, white roses and all... /lucky you/...//

// You were always luckier than me... // Scathing honesty was prompt to point out that Zidane had always had more of /everything/ than himself, except for the errors. Zidane was the 'final' to his 'prototype', perfect in every way, except for the one. 

// Garland never could figure out the 'obedience' angle. I could almost feel sorry for the bastard. // 

The dark humor of the old scientist's situation served to distract him briefly. Kuja unclenched his fists and stared at his hands once more. There was no change visible, but he could feel it. It was an aching sort of absence, something that was a part of him for many years was gone. He strained a moment, trying to will it into existence. There was nothing, not even a spark. He was completely powerless. The unfamiliar feeling, and thoughts about his Maker naturally led him to compare past and present.

// Poking and prodding, he too was always poking and prodding... and /testing/... Did he know that it hurt? Did he /care/? Probably not. But that's what prototypes are for, aren't they? You test them until they break... Then you use the results to build something /better/... Except I /didn't/ break, did I, Garland. Did that surprise you? Sometimes I wonder... If you were planning on destroying me all along, why bother building in a 'limiter'? Why not just have planned for Zidane to kill me as his first task...? But no, you were ever a cautious old sadist. In fourteen years under your tender mercies, I was only able to draw blood once. That was as far as /my/ luck ever went... //

Warily checking the door, Kuja finally slid off the bed to give himself a quick inspection. Aside from his general weakness, and uncooperative legs, he was in surprisingly good shape. He has been well taken care of while he slept. 

// These are a seemingly /friendly/ people anyway... /that/ could be useful... // 

He gingerly pulled the well-worn shirt on. The fuzzy fabric hung almost dress-like, the lower edge falling about mid-thigh. Inspecting the pants briefly he put them aside for the moment. Any body-shyness he had had as a child had been removed, first by countless experiments, then by conscious choice. When he had been given the power to act as he pleased, he had deliberately chosen costumes that were the antithesis of Garland's own. Watching his servant choose revealing silks over more practical armor had constantly irked the old Terran, and brought its own perverse joy. It was one of the few he had ever had.

// Well... I'm alive... for now. As for /you/ Garland... Lay in your ruins and /rot/. //

// But where has my magic gone? Where has /all/ of it gone... // He stared out the window, alone with his worries.

* * *

"Best to let him have some time to himself, he seemed a little shell-shocked when I examined him... Laro? Where are you going?!" 

The dark man slipped quietly from the room, ignoring the doctor's advice and slowly going upstairs. Ing could find nothing out of place with his newly awoken patient, nothing that was not already known anyway. Solitude may have been what Masa desired, but he knew, it wasn't what he /needed/.

// If we leave him alone now... he'll just get paranoid. /Somebody/ has to talk to him, get him to open up a little... or he'll never tell us anything we want to know. And he'll never feel safe. // Laro could remember his first months at the clinic very clearly, it was not an experience he wanted Masa to have. 

// No one was 'there' for me... not in the way I needed. They all just assumed... it probably never occurred to them that 'The /Great/ Me' wouldn't mind talking to someone... anyone... Stupid rank, pointless honor, even now they're still a little scared of me... Well, everyone but /him/, it seems. //

The soldier could clearly remember the way the depthless eyes flashed as they glared. Masa, ignorant of stature and history, had been more than willing to challenge him. Physically, the smaller man was weak from months of inactivity, but the mind, the person behind those fascinating eyes, /he/ was no one to be underestimated. Laro grinned to himself as he carefully took the steps one-at-a-time. It may have been pride that made Masa attempt to walk, but it was certainly the same that had motivated Laro to carry him across town. His knees were more than willing to remind him that muscular strength was nothing if one's joints were incapable of bearing the load. They were already complaining at the recent abuse.

// And what did we think we were doing? Hmmm? There were no less than three people who could've easily carried him... it didn't have to be you. //

// He didn't trust them! //

// He doesn't trust /you/! //

// Better me than a complete stranger. //

// You were showing off, you /want/ him to like you! //

// ... So...? //

// He won't! //

// It doesn't matter... // 

// Doesn't it? // He closed his eyes, wishing his cynical side would shut up, and softly knocked on the door.

"Masa? Can I come in?" Laro felt almost childlike as he peeked around the edge of the door into the quiet sunlit room. His eyes quickly sought out the small lump on the bed. Legs tucked into his over-sized shirt, the delicate man leaned against the wall seeming to have been interrupted from meditating on the view. His stare was quizzical. The soldier froze for a moment under the cool appraisal then shut the door behind him.

"Hello. Thought I'd see how you were doing." Silver hair fluttered in the sea breeze as the head turned, Masa resumed his study of the ocean. 

// Well... he's stubborn... I'll grant him that... but God he's cute. And am I crazy or is he not wearing any... // The body shifted slightly revealing a glimpse of a smooth thigh and calf. 

// No... he's not. // The soldier promptly squashed a wave of giddiness. // Oh Grow Up, Laro... You're thirty not thirteen! //

He forced his eyes to pick some /other/ feature of the room to preoccupy themselves with. They immediately found the crumpled shape of the pants, abandoned on the floor. 

// Yeah, right. At thirteen I'd have gotten a nosebleed and passed out... // 

Laro scooped up the offending article of clothing and refolded it neatly. "These /are/ a little big for you, aren't they. Hell, they're probable big for /me/... and I'm considered tall in these parts..." The smaller man seemed to finally collect himself and turned to watch his visitor settle himself on a chair. 

"What are you doing?"

"Sitting down."

"Why?"

"Because my knees are killing me." 

Masa frowned in frustration as the true question was innocently ignored. He tried to rephrase. "Why don't you go sit /somewhere else/...? /Your/ room perhaps... I assume you live here."

The soldier laughed at his expression, confusing him further. "You assume correctly, I too am a patient here... I sit /here/ because it is convenient. And because I want to talk to you."

"Why?"

"Well... to get to know you, I guess." Laro scratched his head. Having a conversation with the man was not un-akin to attempting to roll square boulders... uphill. Judging by the small frown, it was trying for his companion as well.

// Stop being so defensive, kitten. I'd help if you let me... // 

"Your healer already asked me questions."

"I know, he told me, but I want to ask different ones."

"Are all patients here as nosey as you?"

"Nope, just me." He couldn't help but grin at the nonplused expression.

"You're laughing at me." 

"No, I'm teasing you, there's a difference." 

* * *

// This man... is exasperating! // 

Kuja fought the urge to sigh in frustration, or to reach out and smack his unwelcome visitor. The man was after all, far bigger than he was.

// He's probably of a height with Garland... but looks as though he could have snapped the old man across his knee... and me without my magic? Yes, let's not pick fights with the giant... //

"Why are you 'teasing' me?" He surrender to the persistent man and allowed himself to be baited into the conversation. It was distracting if nothing else. Kuja watched the cheerful man and realized he had no real desire to be alone. His thoughts ceaselessly returned to its nervous calculations. Garland's hints had not been explicit in anyway, but he was mortal now, and apparently had little time left. Thinking about death wasn't something that particularly amused him, especially not when it was his own.

// 'Until Zidane was ready to replace you'... ? By that Logic I should've keeled over months ago... or was he implying when the brat came of age? Or is there some other measure? And then I've gone and wasted six months! Ahhh, this is pointless... just let it go, there's nothing you can do, for now anyway... //

"It got you to relax, didn't it? You looked like you were about to start on your fingernails when I came in."

// Again with that smile... perfectly relaxed, not a care in the world... So like Zidane when he is happy... I envy you, Laro. Who are you? Why are you here? What have you to gain by talking to me? //

Kuja stared for a moment at the innocent looking man. "A bargain for you... a question for a question..."

"By those rules, I should get six free. You've been nothing but questions since I sat down." The gentle smile implied that he wasn't offended.

"I... it /was/ a little crass wasn't it..." The tiny apology came naturally, although later on the silver-haired man was surprised at the gesture. Apologizing had never been something he had volunteered to do. 

// A new place, new rules, he doesn't know what I am... what I've /done/... and he won't... not unless I tell him. So what /do/ I tell him...? and why do I care what he thinks? // Kuja watched as his new-found companion waved the attempted apology away and smiled again.

"I don't mind, if I was you I'd be full of questions too... so... who gets to start?"

// He... why is he so kind? As if he /wants/ me to like him... what's the catch? //

"I do." He almost smirked at the taller man's amused expression. "When you knocked before... was that a 'greeting'? You used it on the boat too, but I don't understand the word... What does 'masa' mean?"

Laro blinked in surprise and sat back. "My lord, I completely forgot... it's just become habit I guess... I didn't think to ask..."

"Ask what?" 

"'Masa'... it's... Well, it's your name..."

"What?"

"Well we had to call you /something/ for the last six months... and you weren't precisely volunteering information..."

"Someone /renamed/ me?!"

"Now that you're awake we can call you something new! It's ok!"

"Masa?!"

"Yes... I assume you'd prefer something else?" Kuja stared at the placating man, still stunned by the information.

// Six months... remember, they've know /you/ for six months... Long enough to give you a name at the very least... dear god... //

It took him a moment to find his voice. "I have a name..." Dark eyes watched him expectantly, and for a moment he hesitated. 

// It doesn't matter if he knows it or not! It's only a name, it doesn't mean /anything/... This /isn't/ Gaia... he doesn't know... //

// I don't /want/ him to know... //

"I am called... Kuja."

// I /want/ him to like me. //

* * *

// So many secrets... //

Laro sat lazily in the sunny courtyard and watched the butterflies skip their way through the air in small burst of color. Usually, he hated days like this. His every joint was inexplicably swollen and uncooperative. All but crippled, he would generally stay in the clinic feeling useless. It wasn't as bad as it could be, his mind shied away from the memory of other relapses. The pain was a constant buzz, but not all consuming. He also had the benefit of a captivating distraction. He was attempting to solve a puzzle. 

// Ah, the question of the hour... or rather of the past several days... 'Who /is/ Masa?' Or rather 'Kuja'... as that's his real name. That'll take some getting used to I think. // He sipped at the bitter herbal tea, more to make the nurses feel better than out of any hope that it would relieve the constant twinges.

// He's slow to open up to conversation, and when he /does/ talk... he shies away from talking about himself. He'll listen... and ask... but when I want to know something about /him/... it's like there's this wall I can't get past. Half the time he says he can't remember... but then sometimes he describes /some/ things in such detail... I get the distinct impression that I'm getting the censored version. What is he not telling us...? //

Ignoring the lancing pain, he carefully propped his feet up on the hassock, attempting to find a more comfortable angle. It didn't work.

// What a depressing way of wasting a day... // He had wanted to go lend some support to his new friend, but his body had decided early in the morning that it was not to be. Instead of watching the younger man go through the often grueling day of therapy, he found himself whisked out into the courtyard garden by two of the burlier orderlies. They had to all but carry him from his room. Somewhere on the other side of the compound, Kuja was undoubtedly being handed a pair of canes and being told to walk various straight lines over and over for practice.

// I can almost see his face too... that mix of frustration, resentment and obstinate pride... /There/ is a man determined not to have to rely on /anyone/... He'll walk again, even if it kills him... // Laro let his head fall back into the pillow. // I wonder if he noticed that I'm not there... // The pathetic tone of the unbidden thought almost made him laugh.

// Oh great... I /must/ be depressed... It's barely noon and I'm already mooning over him... Idiot. It's not like that... // 

His logical side was more than happy to volunteer that 'it' would /never/ be like that. The rest of him told his logic to stick its head in a bucket and be quiet. Pushing personal foolishness aside, he watched the clouds idly and wondered what it would be like to live on the opposite side of the sky, and to wonder how it was possible for Kuja to have found his way to earth.

// There /had/ to be a ship... the Selwe came on ships... great dark ones... Did he come from one of theirs? Was he a prisoner? He says he remembers darkness... and expecting to die... but nothing afterwards. When he fell... I saw nothing. I still don't know how he survived... Kuja... Masa.... Masa Kuja... and I thought calling you 'Masa' was poetic and silly...'the fallen one'. Well he /did/ fall from the sky... it made a sort of sense! Dr. Ing's eyes nearly popped when he heard your /real/ name. A scholarly in-joke, certainly... but still... this time it's not /my/ doing. Another omen perhaps? If by some chance you ever do decide to use 'Masa' as your family name... people will certainly remember it. How poetic, how appropriate... a 'fallen avatar'... Or 'Divine Messenger' even... You look the part at least... when you're angry... your eyes seem to look right /through/ a person. //

A frustrated thumping noise distracted him from his reverie and he paused a moment to try and decipher the origin. The slow rhythmic taping grew slowly louder then stopped. Curiosity getting the better of pain, Laro raised his head to and chuckled in surprise. At the far end of the wooden deck, Kuja was leaning heavily on a longish walking stick, watching him. After a moment's hesitance, he thumped his way closer, encouraged by the darker man's vague wave. The soldier gave some serious thought to trying to sit up, but then surrendered to the inevitable. A shadow slid across his face. 

"You're sick?" Darkened blue eyes stared down at him, what could have been faint concern in their depths.

"Something like that." He forced his uncooperative muscles into the semblance of a smile. 

"You weren't there this morning..."

// Well... Isn't that interesting... He did notice! // Laro's cynical side wasn't impressed. 

"Sorry about that..." The soldier watched as his weary companion dragged a chair closer and sat down with a sigh. They were silent for a time and he took advantage of it to study his new friend's latest alterations. Soon after the man had awoken, someone had taken the time to find him some more reasonable clothing, and tailor it a little for his unique needs. It wasn't particularly stylish, more in keeping with Laro's own soft cotton, but the washed-out grays only made the large eyes more colorful; their shading today an echo of the sky's summer-blue. The fine-boned hands were tucked childlike under his knees. His long tail -curving to its own silent melody- hovered a few inches above the sun-warmed planks. Laro looked up from its motions to find himself being watched in turn. "I see they're still trying to find you a pair of shoes..."

He received a tiny smile for his effort, and it gratified him deeply. "Yes... they tried again this morning but they pinched my toes... at this rate they'll be making me sandals."

"They'll probably have to make them special, none of your average fishermen have feet as small as yours or such particular toes... although given their craft; they're probably envious."

"How do you see that?" Kuja was genuinely curious.

"I imagine that having longer toes than average would make climbing rope ladders and masts a snap." 

The silver-haired man had obviously never considered the idea before as he stretched out his feet and splayed the elongated toes with new found curiosity. "I suppose so... I've never climbed one before..."

"You've been on boats, surely!" 

Thin shoulders shrugged philosophically, "Only as a passenger."

"Sailing is grand fun... I should teach you some time... " Laro grinned.

"... But not today from the look of it. Are you... alright?" The cat-man struggled with the question, seeming uncertain if it was polite to inquire. 

"Well enough... and you?"

"Tired. Your Dr. Ing is something of a taskmaster... " The soldier smiled at the description of the overly energetic director of the clinic, and waited to see what was on the other man's mind. "You... you don't look well..." He raised an eyebrow at the hesitant statement, unsure of how to respond.

"I mean... before... you didn't seem sick at all... but now you do..."

"The doctors say it's an episodic sort of thing... it used to be much worse... lately it's only bad for a day or so..."

"Can't they heal you?"

Laro laughed softly. "They don't even know what's wrong with me... much less how to heal it."

"Why would it matter what was wrong with you? Healing a person is as easy as... " The soft voice trailed off suddenly as a look of comprehension swept the elegant features. Curious, the dark man stared at his fidgeting companion.

"... a easy as...?"

It was no good, Kuja refused to meet his eye. He watched in silence as the smaller man stared down at his hands seeming displeased with what he saw there.

* * *

// There's no magic here... none at all... no mages, no Mist, no monsters... no 'village healer'... /nothing/. How do they do it? How can a world survive without magic? If I were at full strength it'd be so simple to simply touch him and fix it... whatever was wrong... There'd be no need for herbs, or therapies, or any of these painful smelly remedies... I could /fix/ it with a word, a thought even. Instead, all I can do is watch. //

The mage's eyes narrowed in irritation at the half cup of medicinal tea. // If I had my strength...// Dark eyes seemed to laugh at him. "What's so funny?"

"You."

The simple answer distracted him completely from his frustration. There was something terribly charismatic about the large man, even bundled in blankets and obviously in pain, Laro was magnetic. He had a sudden crazy urge to smooth back the damp hair and then trail his fingers along the pale scar on the man's cheek, to somehow soothe some of the pain away from the tired eyes. Kuja growled silently and sat once again on his hands.

"And /why/ am I so funny?"

The dark eyes only twinkled again, generous lips twitching into a half smile. "You... you go through emotions like a little girl trying on dresses... never settling on one for long... Every time you switch, your tail does something new... it's like watching a kitten, first they're happy, then ferocious, then embarrassed, and then they go run off after something new... I half expect to see you climbing trees and chasing the butterflies..." 

Uncertain whether to take offence or curl into a ball of embarrassment, Kuja glared at the treacherous appendage. "I should have lopped you off years ago," he grumbled silently to himself. The tail didn't care. It continued to vibrate, reflecting his embarrassment. He closed his eyes and concentrated, forcing himself to calm down and curling the silvery fur up behind him and out of sight.

// I /would/ have too... if I had any stomach for self-inflicted pain... but no... its hardly an easy angle to remove by one's self... and asking for help would've been impossible. So I hid it... It wasn't just contrariness that made me choose a skirt, Garland... I never do anything without good reason... still... /something/ will have to be done... what's the good of being 'unreadable' if your stupid /tail/ gives you away every time?! Chasing butterflies... sounds like something Zidane would do... But /me/...? // 

"Hardly... I've never chased butterflies."

// Now why in hell did I say that...? //

"What... Not even as a child?" The dark man didn't seem to notice anything amiss.

"There weren't any where I grew up."

"You chased your brother then..." 

Kuja snorted in amusement at the idea. "No, we weren't raised together. I was treated as an only-child."

"Oh. It must have been lonely for you." Stormy blue eyes looked up in surprise at the innocent comment, but Laro was watching the clouds through half-lidded eyes, almost asleep. 

// You... Damn you, Laro!... What do you want from me? What do you expect me to say...? 'Yes, I was miserable'...? 'Yes, I hated every moment of my life up until the day I was fourteen'...? What do you care? Why do you care? // Watching the man slowly drift to sleep, an odd idea struck him.

// Maybe... maybe you didn't expect me to say anything... maybe you were just ... what, offering sympathy? Understanding? Is this what friends do? // Feeling nothing but confusion, Kuja quietly watched the bundled man sleep until the evening's small rain shower made the nurses moved them both indoors. He could find no simple answers.

* * *

* * *

Lunar

http://www.roodinverse.dreamhost.com/


	4. Watch My Shattered World Fall to Shards

**Feather Flight: **"Watch My Shattered World Fall to Shards"(part 4)

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

*************************

Laro was back on his feet by morning, looking tired but active once again. The mage felt faintly happy that the man had come down to watch him go through the repetitive exercises, but couldn't help worrying a little at his faded appearance. When the nurses were satisfied he had done enough for the morning they once more issued him his stick, warned him to over exert himself and gave him a gentle shove towards the door. The dark man was leaning against the frame with a cheery grin.

"If you recover any faster... they'll start to spread rumors about you, you know..."

"Will they now?" Kuja smirked. "And what will they say I wonder... am I Blessed? or Accursed..." His joke earned him an alarmingly serious look.

"Accursed? Why? What have you heard?" 

The silver-haired man paused and blinked in surprise. "Heard? Nothing! Why are you so upset? It's only an expression..."

"Right, right... never mind." The man smiled, visibly relieved. The mage stared at him in confusion.

"Should I have heard something...?"

"No. But the world is populated by any number of fools." Laro smiled apologetically. "This is a small town... and some of the folks are a little isolated... scared of things they don't understand... It shouldn't be a problem, but better to be cautious..."

The silver-haired man watched him a moment, his expression unreadable. "Do you intend to protect me?"

"If I must."

"The word of a simple soldier carries that much weight among the local people...?" Laro kicked himself at the innocence of the question. His own somewhat abbreviated version of his life story was coming back to haunt him sooner than expected.

"It is generally known that I am concerned about your well-being... "

Blue eyes narrowed in amusement. "You're nothing but a bully then..." The soldier laughed feeling a little foolish.

"Yes, maybe so... Would you like to go for a walk? Or a 'Limp', as the case may be?" The smaller man accepted the change in conversation with a shrug and followed him down to the shoreline.

********************

The day was spent very quietly. Kuja allowed himself to feel a peace for the first time he could remember. For a little while he pondered his guardian's warning. Certainly he was familiar with pretending to be human, but it had always been for the sake of pride, not self-preservation. The old Terrans had once been human after all. He had always associated 'humanity' with something special, superior even. The fact that he had been a genome was a constant obstacle to him.  Gaia had proved him wrong in every way possible. Defeated by a valiant mouse-woman, a child-summoner, and one of his very own dolls, he was forced to acknowledge his vanity had caused him no end of trouble. Here however, there were no mixed races. His brief sojourns into the village and gentle questions revealed no hint that there had ever been anything like him in his new home. There were /people/ and then there were /others/. He had heard the fearful murmurs amidst the hospital gossip. It seemed they were a race of giant insects, menacing, massive and apparently driven by a need for conquest. From the sound of it, it would be very difficult to make a mistake between the two.

// Mice, moles, badgers, bears, various goblins, birds… but bugs? No I've never seen a sentient bug… Mist monsters… but they were never prone to starting a conversation… I wonder why there were no insectile people… //

The question was fruitless, serving only to remind him of his singular situation. People feared what they didn't understand. Kuja knew this. In his past schemes he had even counted on it occasionally. Half of the success of his black-mage army had been the simple fact that no one had ever seen anything like it. In their moment of frozen indecision, he had used Queen Brahne to sweep a continent. 

// Considering how edgy these people are about /anything/ alien… justifiable it seems given their current woes… I'm lucky they didn't just toss me back into the ocean when they saw what I was… or rather what I wasn't… but still why should Laro worry? Surely if someone was offended by my appearance, they'd have taken action while I slept? Why wait until now? //

The idea would require more thought. For the moment he could do nothing but focus on his recovery and try not to react when the children stopped and stared at him. The cat-man sighed and looked out over the waves.  As unsatisfying as it had proved to pretend to be 'above' other people when he knew he wasn't, it wasn't any happier a feeling to be a side-show display every time he left his room. Maybe he would finally work up the nerve to cut his tail off for once and for all. He shuddered at the thought. 

Kuja and the soldier moved slowly down the smooth stretch of golden sand, reaching a convenient tumble of boulders and settling on the sun-warmed stone. The heat was soothing to his sore muscles.  Everything was calm and ordinary and unremarkable. He couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day. Later he couldn't exactly recall what they spoke of. It hadn't been important, just idle conversation to pass the time. For a while he put aside all his worries about past and future and enjoyed the moment. It wasn't until after sunset that he was forcefully reminded that this was not Gaia. The revelation came from an unexpected and disturbing source. 

The evening was for once clear and cloudless. The mellow moonlight spilled over into the courtyard. The mage hadn't given it much thought, tired as he was from the day's exertions, but passing one of the interior doorways into the greenery he caught a glimpse of Laro. The tall man was stargazing, staring up over the enclosing rooftops to watch the night sky, his dark coloring only made more pronounced by the long shadows. Kuja hesitated a moment, then moved to join the man. Uncertain if he'd recognize /anything/ the night sky here had to offer. 

The stars were indeed a confusing jumble, their patterns and arcs unfamiliar for all his studies. But that wasn't what filled him with an inexplicable sense of dread. Rather, along with the unfamiliar beauty of the constellations and moon, there was something amiss, something both coldly sterile and horribly wrong. The mage stared a moment in silence before finding the words to ask.

"...Laro... ?"

"I know... sickening isn't it...?"

"...What /is/ that..."

Dark eyes looked down at him sadly. "/That/...is The Net." Kuja blinked in incomprehension and stared upwards again. Standing as a semi-visible barrier between the ground and the stars, thin gold-spangled fibers seemed to stretch across the night sky. Horizontal rows were crossed with vertical columns to form what could be very accurately called a 'net', a massive mesh of interlocking triangles picked out in gold thread. A web large enough to wrap the entire planet. 

"It wasn't always like this you know... I can remember, as a child... I can remember what it was like before they hung The Net..."

"...They...?"

"The Selwe. The invaders... The Net is part of their plan to conquer this world." The serious tone was lightened somewhat as Laro sensed his friend's concern. "Try not to let it worry you... It's not your fight... and they haven't won yet." He gave in to the temptation to give the nearest shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"How? What does it /do/?" The smaller man's expression was thoughtful. 

"... That's... " 

The soldier thought for a moment and then shrugged. "Do you believe in magic, Masa?" He paused as the pale man stared at him in surprise. "Not just tricks and games... but /real/ magic... the power to change the world... to manipulate matter..." 

Kuja fought the urge to laugh in disbelief. He had left that part of his past untouched, certain he wouldn't be believed. "What, like mages? Yes... I think it's safe to say that I believe in magic... why?"

"This world... we had magic once... 'Mages', like you say... then The Net was built. They say that in less than a year afterwards, there weren't any mages anymore."

The cat-man's tail fluffed in alarm, "They died...?"

"No..." Laro frowned, trying to remember. "Well some of them did... But the rest... It was as if they never had been mages... there was no magic left... not for anything. It really was a blow. Before The Net, the fight was pretty fair, maybe even in our favor, magic verses technology... they may have been more advanced, but we weren't suffering any... They figured out a way to remove that advantage."

Kuja caught his twitching tail and tried to smooth the hairs down, giving his hands something to do while his mind digested the new facts. "...Your powers are sealed by The Net, so you can't fight back...? But how is it sustained? Surely not from Space?" His companion shifted nervously, his face obscured in the half-light. Kuja was again reminded that he wasn't the only one with secrets. Laro's life before arriving at the hospital sounded as carefully worded as his own had. The man's past was remarkably obscure.

// He really doesn't like talking about this... does he. What happened, Laro? You know more then you want me to believe. Do you think your war will upset me? I've known war all my life, it could be said that it is 'peace' that I'm afraid of... //

"No... Not from Space... They have Towers, tall monolithic things... thousands of them... scattered all over the planet. We think that if the Towers were ever to fall... then so too would The Net. But that's impossible."

"The Towers are indestructible then?" 

The soldier stared at him thoughtfully. "I didn't say that... No, they can be damaged... decommissioned. But it isn't easy... and it isn't fast. No one has ever been able to take down more than five at the same time... and he wasn't able to hold on to his victory... five Towers... it wasn't even enough to put a dent in The Net... weakened it maybe, in a small area… but not broken by any stretch. Maybe if it had been fifty, or five hundred... then it might have been crippling. A /real/ victory..." Laro smiled grimly. "It took three months of constant fighting to gain those Towers. The Selwe reclaimed them in twelve days. They were reactivated in less than a month."

// Fascinating... //

"But... surely they have some weakness..." The mage watched in concern as the taller man shrugged in defeat.

"Maybe so... I don't know." A large hand absently ruffled through Kuja hair. "Like I said. Don't worry about it, it doesn't concern you. You're safe." The dark man made a show of stretching his arms. "And now, I think I'm tired... sleep well, little cat."

"...'little /what/'...?" His protest went unheard as the man limped slowly away, leaving him in the quiet garden. He stared at the retreating form and then up once again, the golden threads glittered ominously in the night sky. 

*************************

Kuja sat gracelessly on the edge of his narrow bed and kicked off his sandals before falling backwards into the blankets with a sigh. The late afternoon heat was almost oppressive as he relaxed, letting the scarce breeze tickle his face. Propped carelessly in the corner, his walking stick was already accruing a thin layer of dust.

// And you can /stay there/ too... I don't need you. //

The silver-haired man rolled over to glare at the inoffensive wood. It had taken weeks of grumbling effort, but he now felt confident enough to even go down to the beach and back without the humble support. He had been growing progressively stronger since the day he awoke, his body recovering what it had lost. Despite his continued inability to summon the smallest magics, Kuja felt certain that he would soon be at full health. Instead of cheering him however, the idea only provoked a sense of worry. 

// Laro... He's not getting better. I... I don't think he /can/... //

The always friendly man seemed to occupy his thoughts more and more over the recent weeks. Kuja had been stubbornly opposed at first to allowing himself to feel anything more than the most distant gratitude towards the ex-soldier, but that resolve had quickly slipped. Laro's unshakable trust and gentle humor had found the weaknesses in his defenses. He idly wondered at what point everything had changed. When had he stopped resisting? It seemed strange that he couldn't pinpoint just when the decision had been made. He wasn't a creature prone to falling victim to wasted emotion but suddenly he found them sneaking up on him. Frowning, he forced them to the surface and ruthlessly inspected them. The day progressed without him, his enhanced hearing picking up hints of a hummed melody from down the hall.

// When was it that you became more than just a convenience...? Today I watched you limping beside me, and I... It made me angry to see... It's not fair that someone like /me/ should recover while you patiently suffer. That's not how the story is supposed to go.  Everyone knows that the 'hero' always overcomes… and he's proven to be more than worthy of the title. He rescued /me/ after all… A wasted effort perhaps, but still… It's not fair at all... //

The light breeze soothed his worries, and too tired to stay awake, he dozed through the long afternoon. When he awoke for dinner, his friend was strangely absent.

*************************

There was a hushed and anxious feel to the small dinner hall as Kuja made his way to his usual seat. The chair across from his was empty. He cast a curious glance over to the fidgeting doctor. The older man simply flicked his finger upwards expressively.

// He's still resting...? But he was /fine/ this afternoon... A little slower than usual… and quiet... and... /Damn him/ if he was hurting why didn't he /say/ something... we didn't have to walk today! // 

The cat-man glared at his stew in frustration. He briefly considered ignoring the rest of the bowl in favor of going upstairs to tell the stubborn soldier off, but hesitated when a nurse slipped into the room and whispered in the doctor's ear. The small man frowned briefly before following the woman out of the room.

// What's going on? // 

Curious, the mage quickly finished his meal and returned the dishes to the kitchen. Natural caution made him silent as he made his way upstairs, and he soon found himself hesitantly standing outside the other occupied room in his corridor. Holding his breath he listened to the murmured conversation on the other side of the door.

"Were there any signs this afternoon?"

"No, sir. I commented that he looked tired after his walk, and he agreed to rest until evening... but there was no evidence that he would slip like this..."

"Wait, he /agreed/ to rest? No arguing? No protest? Didn't you find that strange?"

"I... oh dear..." The prim voice trailed off in realization. "You're right... he /always/ grumbles... but he didn't today. I just assumed it was because he was genuinely tired... You know how he pushes himself..."

The doctor sighed, "Yes... and now he's pushed himself right into a relapse... where's Kuja?"

The mage pulled away from the door, alarmed at the sound of his name.

"He's still at dinner last I checked."

He let out a silent breath of relief, and leaned against the door once more.

"Good." Dr. Ing sounded relieved. "Try to keep him occupied tonight, there's no need to worry him about things he can't understand..."

// 'Understand'...? What's so difficult to understand here old man?! The only friend I have in this freakish place is sick, and you want me to stay away? Like Hell... I'm not a child. //

He was about to turn and enter the room, when the seemingly solid surface behind him suddenly gave way. Kuja fell backwards with a yelp and hit the floor in an untidy sprawl. The doctor, hand still on the door knob, stared at the new arrival in mild surprise.

"Kuja."

"I'm staying." The silver-haired man refused to show any embarrassment as he painfully hauled himself upright and dusted himself off. He gave the doctor his best glare, refusing to be denied.

The small man smoothed his mustache and glanced over to the bed nervously. The room was dimly lit but the cat-man could still make out a dark shape tangled in the sheets. He watched Laro's unconscious trembling, and bit his lip. "I'll stay out the way, but I'm not leaving..." 

Deliberately claiming the chair beside the bed, the cat-man folded his legs underneath him and waited. The nurse moved to complain but was stopped by a touch on the arm. Dr. Ing sighed in worried amusement.

"Very well... There's no reason you can't help... Who knows... maybe it's for the best."

*************************

Heat, unending heat scoured his body, waves of fire danced along abused nerves as he shuddered. Opening his eyes revealed only empty darkness, he tried to cry out, but there was no sound. Then, after a moment, there was. The rattling hiss was unmistakable, a nightmare given flesh. Unable to move, Laro could only wait silently in the darkness, listening to the slow approach of the hard insect-like creature. The beetle shaped Inquisitor always moved slowly, each leg clicking ominously down the cold echoing corridor.

// No no no no... not this... not again... it's not real... I escaped. Didn't I...? // 

A fresh surge of pain caused his vision to go white, something at the base of his skull feeling as if it were being torn in two. He sobbed for air, feeling his body break into a cold sweat. The agony abated slightly leaving him disoriented. Opening his eyes, he found himself in the ocean. Blue-green water swirled around him, contrasting unpleasantly with the heat still attempting to burn him alive. Laro smiled for a moment as a fish flickered by, inches from his face. Dream like, realization was slow to dawn on him, but hazily, he forced his tired eyes upwards, and stared bemused at the water's surface. It was ten feet /above/ him. Air escaped his lungs in a startled burst of shimmering bubbles; his arms were slow to respond despite his urgent need to breathe. The dark man flailed for seemingly endless moments, his chest aching and empty of breath, but it was with a sickening sort of terror that he felt himself sinking lower. His vision started to darken as exhaustion sapped his strength. The water was growing darker, colder as he slipped further and further from the surface. Caught in some current he was swept deeper, no longer fighting, simply bemused that the icy water did nothing to chill the burning in his veins, and wondering how long it a human could suffer agony before the body simply gave out.

// It's so blue here... everything is blue... the water, my arms... the light... well, what's left of it anyway. So beautiful... I could almost forget the pain... //

"... laro..."

// That voice... //

Something cold and wet touched his forehead, it brought some relief from the burning heat, and for a moment he was confused.

// I'm underwater... how could something feel... wet...? // The ocean around him shuddered and dissolved, leaving him in a new stuffier darkness. The humid air caught unpleasantly in his tired lungs.

"... stop struggling... you're tying your blankets in knots..." The soothing voice returned, removing the cloth only to replace it with a new one. 

// ... it... was... a dream...? Or is /this/ the dream... //

Slender fingers caressed his cheek, the touch hesitant yet communicating a silent message of worry, and tenderness. The roaring in his ears abated slowly, his eyes gradually focusing on the ceiling above. Its shadowy beams and white plaster seemed heavenly in their familiarity.

// Who...? //

"... You're awake...?"

Laro blinked as one of the shadows beside him drew closer, the faint moonlight caught in silvery hair and eyelashes. The childlike features were tight with worry as the man leaned closer, hands catching Laro's shaking fingers as they reached out.

"I'm here."

*************************

// He's burning up... //

Kuja replaced the cold cloth again, and glanced at the nurse. The elderly woman was fast asleep in her chair by the door. The mage briefly considered waking her, alerting the doctor of the change, but trembling fingers clutched his and the decision was made. He settled himself on the edge of the bed, carefully pressing the hand between his own, offering what comfort he could. Outside, the Net twinkled against the starry sky.

"Shhhh... I'm here... It's alright."

"... masa...?" The voice was weak, a pitiful ghost of what he remembered. 

// What can I do...? //

"... From you I'll accept that name..." Kuja kept his whisper light, letting the exhausted man know he truly didn't mind. "You've given us all a good scare, you know... They weren't so sure you were going to wake up, you've been raving for two days..."

Dark eyes bored into his silently as the larger man gathered his strength. "... I... it's not over yet..."

"...what?" The mage leaned closer in alarm, the frail whisper barely audible.

"I... don't think I can... I'm tired... so tired..." A fit of tremors shook the man so hard his teeth rattled. Kuja could do nothing but hold him down while the fit passed. 

"You'll be fine..." He murmured.

"... no..." Laro fought his weakness to raise a hand and briefly touch a silky cheek. "... sorry..."

"What?" He no longer cared if he woke up the nurse or not.

// Don't talk nonsense... You're not going to die now... it'd be stupid for you to die now... Not when I still need you... //

"You have to stay... What will I do if you go and leave me... You're the only friend I've ever had." Spoken aloud, the words sounded hopelessly foolish.

// It's true Laro... I'm not ready to lose you... not now... not yet... You're /needed/... don't go. //

Kuja closed his eyes, he didn't believe in 'God' he had seen too much to cling to such foolish hopes. He told himself that wasn't praying. Even if he could, who was there to listen? Loneliness twisted in his stomach like acid. 

"... you're so beautiful..." The broken whisper nearly undid him. Blinking away tears he stared in disbelief down at the exhausted man, uncertain of what he heard.

// You... //

"You're hallucinating, Laro."

Lips pulled into a small smile at the flat response. "... no... you are..." Tired eyes drifted closed.

// No damn it! Stay awake, what the Hell do you mean by that? //

// If he dies, I'll never find out... //

// Please don't die, Laro... //

Kuja didn't believe in gods. In his whole life there had been only one /thing/ he's ever encountered that might have qualified. It was irresistible to think of it now. Its pure white radiant light, the way each facet seemed to be its own color, some unknown hue that was both unique and rainbow in one. The Crystal had hung in solitary splendor, alone in the darkness of Space, but the feeling he remembered was not one of loneliness. To stand in the aura of the Crystal was to feel you were in the presence of life itself, a glorious triumphant sort of feeling that filled you up and washed your burdens away. The cat-man remembered being bathed the Crystal's joyful energy and feeling nothing but bleak rage. Having just learned of his mortality, and witnessed the destruction of his cherished ambition, he had blindly rejected the promise of peace and belonging. He had threatened to destroy it, the source of all-life.

// I was an imbecile. //

The Crystal was not without its own defenses however, and as Kuja had been bested once more by his brother he realized the magnitude of his error. The fall into the bowels of the Lifa Tree had been the longest moment in his life. 

// Of course I /lost/... I was on the losing side... I had been all along. Zidane was the one, the one who chose the future, not me. He chose life... Maybe... maybe it's not too late for me too... not for myself, I don't matter... but please... /please/... if you can hear me... I'm /sorry/... I was wrong and I'm sorry... please don't let him die... he doesn't deserve this... he's my friend... //

He pressed thin hands to his face, willing the tears to stop. The itchy hot sensation only grew stronger but he ignored it, concentrating only on the intense light, and the memory of that untouchable joyful energy. 

// Please... //

His fingertips began to tingle as well. 

In his mind's eye the Crystal twinkled slowly, its bright rays flashing in a mesmerizing pattern. The level of the light grew brighter and brighter, and he reached for it, trying to claim some tiny portion, any piece, to aid him. In a flash of brilliance the image faded, leaving him panting in surprise and pain. Something warm and wet trickled over his lips, but he ignored it, staring at his hands in wonder.

He knew what he had to do.

It was simple in the end, almost frighteningly easy. Kuja touched the sleeping face on the pillow with shaking hands, hesitating a moment before steadying his grip. Fingertips pressed firmly to the fevered man's temples, he spoke a word, and felt the energies built up inside him flood out to obey. It felt as if he was falling all over again. He whimpered in distress, but refused to release the spell. Eventually the magic dried up, ebbing from him slowly and leaving only exhaustion in its wake. Kuja sagged against the prone body beneath him, utterly spent.

// But... Did it work? What I just did... Was it real? Or just a sleep-starved delusion... No. It had to be real, no delusion ever hurt like this. But did it /work/? //

He lay still a timeless moment, listening to the steady heartbeat under his ear, waiting. He was rewarded as the chest beneath him rose with a sudden shuddering breath. It was followed by another. The silver-haired man could feel the muscles under his hands slowly relax, releasing the fevered tension that had wracked them for countless hours. The fever was fading.

// It worked...? // 

Just as he was mustering the strength to haul himself upright, to examine his handiwork, one of the previously shaky arms slowly flexed and moved. The motion was slow but perfectly steady as a large hand gently came up and curiously touched the back of Kuja's head. It then slid to his shoulder and was joined by it fellow, both gently forcing his weary body upright, off of the now awake patient. The mage was more than willing to lean into the supporting arms, and looked up to meet the dark eyes staring at him in confusion.

"... Masa...?" Laro fumbled for a moment, forcing clumsy limbs to both keep their grip on the sagging cat-man and also pull himself upright. He struggled to sit up, uncertain of what had occurred. The silver-haired man said nothing, simply staring in bemused exhaustion.

// It worked... I don't believe it... // Kuja felt himself being gently pulled further onto the bed into a less precarious grip. Uncaring of pride, he sagged against the larger shoulder, allowing the loose embrace. Fingers brushed his face touching the wetness under his nose hesitantly.

"Masa, you're bleeding...!" The hoarse whisper served to shake him from his reverie and Kuja daubed at his bloody face in faint surprise.

"... so I am... Must have burst a vessel... no harm done... I think." His voice sounded strange in his ears.

// Then again I could be hemorrhaging... but somehow, I just don't care... Laro's awake... he's healed... /I/ healed him... he's going to live, and he thinks I'm beautiful. The rest? It just doesn't matter. Fuck it. //

"I should get you the doctor..."

Kuja fought to keep his eyes open. "...no... I'd rather just stay like this... and sleep, definitely sleep..."

"Masa? What just..." The dark man blinked in surprise as his burden began to snore very quietly. "Kuja...?" He tried again, softly. The small body only pressed closer, breath puffing regularly against his neck. The soldier remained still for a moment, uncertain of what to do, then slowly settled himself back onto the bed. The pale body cradled in his arms did nothing more than mutter contentedly at the change. Still caught somewhere between awe and confusion, Laro wrapped his arms carefully around his treasure and listened to the gentle breathing, letting it lull him to sleep.

*************************

*************************

Yeay Kuja! now... where's that plot... I put it down /somewhere/... 

--Lunar

http://www.roodinverse.dreamhost.com


	5. You Come to This Blackened Land

**Feather Flight:** **"You Come to This Blackened Land." (part 5)**

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

*************************

"Shhhh don't wake /him/..."

"I'm trying not to but there'll be no way of separating them if I don't move the arm!"

"Oh what a mess... well do your best... oh be careful!"

The agitated whispers were annoying but ignorable; the gentle grip on his wrist was not. Laro came awake silently, giving no outward sign as he waited for his wits to catch up with his body. Kuja's limp warmth was still sprawled across his chest, the thin arms tucked beneath him in a close embrace. The nurses were very gently trying to extract the man, shifting his arms so they could separate the two. For a moment, the ex-soldier was tempted to continue feigning sleep and let them carry the man back to his own bed. It would certainly cause less of a stir then what he was about to do. The sleeping form in his arms mewled discontentedly as they tried to free him, and Laro's decision was made.

"Leave him. He's comfortable." The nurses all but fell over themselves in pulling away from the bed. Trying hard not to disturb his burden, the dark man made an effort to stretch his sore shoulders and rub the sleep from his face. Kuja only burrowed closer, nuzzling against his neck; kitten like. He fought the urge to smile, attempting to keep things professional if only on the surface. 

"Was there something you needed?" The two women were still blushing and fidgeting. It took several seconds for them to make themselves clear.

"No sir, it's just... well I came in to take over her shift see, but she had fallen asleep... and then I found /him/ there curled up like a baby and we thought for certain that we'd lost you... but you're... obviously fine..." The apron-ed woman finished lamely.

// ... they thought I'd... die? // As hard as he concentrated, his memories of the previous days were hazy but he remembered the feeling of the delicate hands on his chest, the wave of cool pain-free bliss that flowed through him. 

// Masa... he /did/ something to me...? //

The nurse interrupted his train of thought, her co-worker slipping out the door to fetch the doctor. "Nazer Kai... how do you feel...?"

"Feel...?" Laro blinked at the bizarre question. "...I feel fine." Staring at the ceiling, trying to self analyze his curious mood, he was rather startled at the complete truth of the statement.

"Kai?!" Ing caught himself on the doorway obviously expecting the worst. He stared in amazement as the soldier winced at the shout and waved gingerly. The silver-haired youth on his chest stirred again, and grumbled, slowly rousing himself with a giant yawn. "Kuja?!" The doctor, beyond startled by the odd scene, took a moment to settle his mustache before resuming his usual collected demeanor. Laro spent confusing moment juggling the still drowsy form and untangling himself from the sheets as the small medic helped him to sit up and began to examine him.

"... what's... going on..." The soldier smiled at the complaint from under his chin. The cat-man, still nested against his chest was trying to get his bearings, pushing away just enough to look up at his unusual pillow. "...oh... you."

// No one should look this adorable when tired... just like a kid... except those eyes... they could stare right through you. //

"Good morning." The blue eyes blinked sleepily at him.

"Humph." 

"Impossible..." Kuja looked up at the doctor in surprise at the uncharacteristic outburst. The mustached man was taking the soldier's pulse, flustered once more. "Make a fist, Kai... now bend, and this way..." Putting the dark man's arm through a series of rotations he muttered a moment then sat down, confused. Now fully awake, the silver-haired man watched the frowning face and then his companion's cheerful one. Laro repeated the exercise with his free arm, pleasantly surprised at the ease of the motion. There was neither stiffness nor pain, the joints functioning as they hadn't for over a year.

"Well I'll be damned..."

"But /how/?!" Dr. Ing was baffled. "You're... damn it you're in perfect health! This is just not possible..." The soldier simply shrugged, but he couldn't help but tuck the cat-like man closer, his suspicions still fresh in his mind. The doctor was apparently also considering the possibilities, fixing the quiet man with a stern glance. "Kuja, you were with him all night, yes? Did... anything peculiar happen? When did his fever break?"

Ocean-blue eyes watched him from under the sheltering fringe of silver hair, pondering the question. "I... fell asleep."

"So you're saying that a bloody miracle happened /right/ under our noses... and we all slept through it?" Curling deeper into the protective one-armed embrace, the cat-man said nothing, simply watching the flabbergasted doctor.

"I don't remember anything either, not that it probably helps..." Laro attempted to calm the man with a conciliatory smile. "But hey, I'm not complaining..." His small friend seemed to relax with his comment, and he briefly wondered if he should confront him later. 

"It's... it's just not possible..." Sitting for a long moment watching his patient, Ing toyed with his mustache then stood abruptly. "I don't know how long this will last for, but you're right. Let's take what we're given, hmmm?" He shrugged, "Gods know /I've/ been praying for a miracle... Well... let's run some tests... but after breakfast... you must be hungry."

"Starving."

"Coming, Kuja? Your friend will come down when he cleans up a little, and you should do the same." Suddenly remembering himself at the doctor's gentle prompt, the silver-haired man all but sprang out of the bed, blushing slightly as he silently slid from the room. Dr. Ing watched his escape. "He... he seems quite attached to you Kai... was most ferociously stubborn about staying by your side... a curious one, our little foundling... not child-like at all... not when he chooses to be."

"It bothers you...?" The soldier kept his voice neutral, carefully standing to test his legs.

// Should I tell /him/...? But what do I say... I already have enough odd-ball theories about Masa, one more and they /will/ think I've cracked... no, no I'll wait... I want to ask the kitten first. //

The doctor shrugged. "Well, it's not as if we ever did discover his age, or know anything about what would be 'expected'... it might be a symptom of the amnesia, or maybe it's his nature... He may look almost human, but it's a poor thing to judge him by, especially if he fell from the /sky/." He smiled at what had now become something of a town-wide joke despite the fact that he too believed it, at least in part.

"Let him be then... it doesn't bother me... if he is child-like or not."

"You're rather fond of him too."

"I make no secret of my likes or dislikes."

"No, I suppose you don't... take your time coming down to breakfast, we'll see that your 'masa' gets fed..." The small man paused at the door. "Still, you have to admit, if this recovery of yours lasts... that boy really will have become your lucky charm." The soldier merely snorted, bundling together a change of clothes and a towel for the bath.

// What have you done, Masa...? //

// 'From you I'll accept that name'... //

The dark man paused; uncertain if the remembered-words were from a fever-dream or had actually been spoken. 

// No, he /did/ say that... and then I called him beautiful...? Oh hell... he probably thinks I'm a complete... but then again... he stayed didn't he? He healed me... and he stayed... // When he stopped to think about it, his body easily remembered the feel of the light form in his arms, the way the hair tickled his neck as he had pressed closer. It was almost unnerving how real the ghostly touch felt. Shaking his head, he sank into the hot bath, and methodically began to scrub.

*************************

The beach was baking, but the salty breeze was refreshing, dispelling the afternoon heat. Laro did his best to impersonate a piece of driftwood, happily lazing on the sand, catching a short nap. Beside him, his companion sat quietly, watching the rolling surf. The past week had been an odd sort of role reversal, the quiet youth watching solemnly as his friend regained his strength. There had been no relapses; the dark man's 'cure' seemingly a permanent development. Kuja discretely flicked his eyes sideways, taking in the sprawled form beside him. He couldn't help but feel pleased with the results of his work, as exhausting and unpredictable as the effort had been. He frowned, looking at his hands again, but the spark, the power was gone, sleeping once more.

// But... I had it... I felt it... /magic/... // 

In the distance a cluster of children were laughing and playing in the surf. Seagulls chortled and cruised in lazy circles over head. 

// I wonder... could I summon it again...? Or was this /truly/ a miracle... // He sighed. // I just don't know. //

Laro took an opportunity to stretch, wiggling his toes in the sand childishly. The cat-man watched in amusement. "What are you doing...?"

"Relaxing... you?"

"The same, I suppose..."

The dark man raised an eyebrow, "Bored?"

"No... just watching the sea... it always moves..."

"Well most of the time... when it stops, that's usually bad."

"Where I grew up the water never moved. Nobody swam in it either..." He nodded towards the distant children.

"What, nobody?"

"We didn't know how to... even if we could. But nothing that went in ever came out... not without a ship anyway..."

// And I tossed Zidane in... Hoping he'd never come back... there wasn't even a ripple... little did I know he'd end up the happier of the two of us... if I had... would I have jumped in after him?... Or would I have been too afraid. //

"What the hell kind of ocean was that?"

// No kind of ocean, Laro... but you /don't/ need to know about that... Odd, I think /then/... I wouldn't have done it... jumped... I was scared of the unknown... but now...? //

"More of a pond really... but never mind."

"No, tell me... I want to know."

"About water?" Kuja raised an eyebrow.

"About where you grew up... about you." He grinned, ignoring the taunt.

Hiding his face in his hair, the cat-man chuckled again. "Not much to tell really... I don't remember much."

"You remember about the water..."

"Hmmm..." There was a hint of a smile. "And what about /you/... what did you do before you went to war..."

// ... it seems 'unknowns' are the only things I can jump into... so many secrets... I can do this. I have to. //

Laro smirked as his question was neatly derailed. "Went to school to be an officer... did you fish in your pond?"

"There weren't any..." The flock of children had begun an impromptu race, wet sand splattering as they tore down the beach in a loose mob. Kuja let out an inarticulate bark of dismay as a clump of sand sprayed him in the face, Laro, having been used as a hurdle, was even worse off, but laughed instead.

"Hey!" The silver-haired man dusted his clothes, grumbling after the rapidly departing kids. "Damn it, I have sand in my hair... /again/... That's the third time this week!"

The soldier laughed at his prissy tone. "You /could/ go remind them... if you can catch them that is."

Looking morosely up the beach, the cat-man sighed. "Catch them? Why bother... they're coming back..." Sure enough the merry group has rounded a boulder and was sprinting back. The soldier finally pulled himself up, still laughing and hailed the children as they drew close.

"Oi, Sevo! My friend here says that your running is a nuisance..." 

The darkly tanned boy matched Laro's grin. "Oh, I suppose it is... for old lazy slowpokes like you two..."

"Hoho! I'll have you know when I was a boy..."

"Not possible... you were probably sleeping all the time /then/ too!" The soldier feigned injury while the younger children giggled.

"I'll have you know that we're /both/ excellent runners..." Kuja blinked in alarm as the broad gesture immediately included him in the conversation.

"What?"

"We've been resting all this while just so we'd have the energy to run circles around you barely grown sprats."

"Um... Laro...?"

The dark man grinned. "I feel /fine/, Masa... it's a great day for racing!" The cat-man stared in disbelief as his companion and the head-boy bargained about the distance, finally settling on a large boulder several hundred feet away.

"It wasn't /you/ I was worried about..." The grumble wasn't heart-felt however, and he submitted to the gentle prodding into position. "Wait, so what do I do?"

Laro stared at him in surprise. "Haven't you ever raced before? They say 'go'... and we head for the rock. Touch it and turn around and come back here first... and you win."

Kuja stared thoughtfully at his friend. "And what's the prize...?"

"The prize..?" Laro shrugged, "I guess it's that everybody knows you're the best..." He chuckled. "You'll be able to boss the sprats around all you like."

Kuja gave the tanned-boy a measuring look. "If I win... no more getting sand in my hair...?"

The child shrugged. "You won't, but sure... if you do... then we'll make sure not to bother you guys when you're sleeping anymore..." He snorted at the likeliness of the deal.

The cat-man smirked. "Very well... let's race."

For all his cheerful boasting, Laro soon lagged behind the group, his stamina still not as it should be. He watched his friend's slim form darting down the beach with a grin. For all the silver-man's complaints, he was at the front of the pack; eyes narrowed in determination as he all but flew over the sand, tail streaming along behind him. Kuja didn't just touch the marker-boulder, he hit it full-on, leaping to spring-board off the rough surface and reversing-course mid air. The feat of acrobatics landed him in a plume of sand several feet ahead of the now awed crowd as he regained his pace, steadying his first few strides through the expedient of using hands as well as feet. The soldier watched in delighted amazement at the unmistakably feline antics and easily caught the light form as it plowed across the make-shift 'finish line'. Masa was panting loudly as the rest of the runners straggled in.

"I win." The children blinked in awe, the younger ones giggling as they watched the cat-man's tail lashing in excitement. The quickly smothered the sound when caught in the icy-blue gaze. "The forfeit is mine, no more sand in my hair... go play somewhere else."

Laro smiled at the silver-haired man's grumpy declaration, conceding the victory with a shrug. "I think the lagoon down on the point probably has water in it..."

Acknowledging the validity of the idea, Sevo and the others grinned, waving as they jogged away. Kuja remained quiet for several minutes longer, sucking in lungfulls of air. "Laro... next time, I'd appreciate it if you didn't go volunteering me for things."

"Who volunteered you..."

"/You/ did! Remember?! ....racing... like a kid... shit... I've /never/..."

"Then it was about time wasn't it..." The dark man smoothly cut him off, the calm words effectively silencing the complaint.

"What does /that/ mean...?"

"What I said, of course." Laro shrugged and helped his companion upright, and leading him down the beach. He thought a moment before explaining. "Funny thing is, Masa... 'you've never...' It seems there's a lot of things you've never done... big things, stupid things... I don't know what sort of childhood you had... but something tells me that whoever raised you skipped over some important stuff... like 'play'... and 'fun'... and friends... what /did/ you do as a child, Masa...?"

"Went to school to become an officer." The cat-man deliberately copied the soldier's tone.

"Funny... tell me...? The truth...?" He looked at the earnest dark eyes and deliberately produced a Zidane-like shrug, comically exaggerated. 

"I must have done /something/... but I can't remember." For a moment the taller man looked as though he would call him out on the lie, but after a long moment, Laro smiled sadly and continued their walk in silence. 

// You wouldn't understand anyway... // Feeling a little guilty at the obvious falsehood, Kuja sighed, rubbing his forehead as his companion lazily pretended to look for seashells. There had to be a way to tell the soldier things without telling /everything/... he chose his words with grim precision. // This... this is going to be painful... and probably a bad idea... but what the Hell... if he wants to know, might as well... //

"When I was young..." The dark man's head snapped up in amazement, watching the cat-man as he spoke softly to the sea. Masa was ignoring him, almost talking to himself. "You were right... I never played as a child... well maybe I did... but only in secret... on my own... little stupid games I made up... skipping pebbles and climbing rocks and the like... but I..." He turned, fixing his friend with a distant blue stare. "I was different from the others... /they/... they never played at all... just /worked/ they were always mindlessly doing /something/... stupid menial things... /waiting/..."

"Waiting for what...?" The soft question seemed to jar the youth out of his reverie, causing him to grimace.

"Umm... We were all being.... 'trained'. Yes, trained... for some bigger task... Being an 'individual' was not a /desirable/ thing... not in Brambala... Garland... didn't like it when we thought for ourselves..."

"...Garland...?"

"He was..." Kuja stopped, uncertain which word to use. 

// Maker... father... /god/...? 'Torturer' is more like it... 'scientist'...? He'd have called himself the 'Guardian of Terra'... or something... 'Pompous old fool with an ego the size of Lindblum' is more like it... /bastard/... codger... 'waste of life'... //

"... he was the one in charge... he gave orders, and we obeyed... well /they/ did... I... I have always had a contrary disposition."

"I don't think you're contrary..."

"You've never tried to boss me around either..."

"This is true." Laro hesitated, sensing some of the emotion buried beneath the calm facts. "But what of Zidane...? He was a brother, yes?"

"He was raised by someone else... he...he was sent away when very young."

"Oh..." He wanted to ask more questions, trying to find the source of whatever it was that felt so /wrong/ about the simple confession, but was interrupted by a distant shout. The soldier looked back towards the town, Masa following his gaze with curiosity.

"They seem to be trying to get our attention..."

// ... Just in time too...I was beginning to run out of 'safe' things to say... I think I've only made things worse... Oh /please/ be something distracting... // 

The cat-man watched as a set of three riders, jockeyed their animals down the bluff and came towards them. Bright sunlight glinted off of pieces of metal armor, and all three had their helmets tucked formally under their arms. He raised his eyebrows, dubiously impressed at the sight of the knights. The third and youngest was holding what looked like a cavalry banner. Turning to ask his friend the meaning of the blue-and white patterned flag, Kuja paused. The dark-man's stricken features were an ominous sign.

"...Laro...?" 

For a moment the recuperating soldier said nothing, grimly watching the new arrivals come near. Suddenly he turned, "Masa, go back to the Clinic."

"What?"

"Go on, they're only here to see me... and this'll probably be very boring... and..." Kuja's eyes narrowed at the lame excuses.

"I think I'll stay..." He watched as the soldier grimaced and then sighed; their recent conversation suddenly very applicable. 

"...Contrary, huh...?"

"...Definitely... besides... they're here."

"Keep quiet then... maybe they won't notice you."

"As you wish." 

The switch from stubborn to obliging caused Laro to watch him suspiciously for a moment, but the cat-man was right. There was no time for him to slip away and not have it draw attention. He stepped forward a few paces, moving to greet the riders as Masa waited calmly, watching from shore. The dry sand was almost painfully hot beneath his feet. The pair of senior officers stared in surprise for a silent moment, and then dismounted, bowing low in front of him.

"Nazer Kai."

"Great Kai..."

"Don't bother, I'm retired."

They blinked in surprise when their salutes were met with casual candor. The more be-ribboned man cleared his throat carefully. "You were discharged with honors in consideration to your incurable condition, sir."

"Yes."

"Rumors have recently reached the capital... that you have been cured after all..."

"Perhaps."

The man sighed at the un-forthcoming replies. "Are you cured, sir?"

For a minute, Laro and the officer stared at one another in a silent test of will. At length the dark man shrugged, "What do they want."

"I have a message for you... from the King, and two more from highly important military leaders..."

"Someone sent a captain... all this way... to send me mail from Martinosso, Ibat, and 'old man' Riquoi ? The war must be going well to afford such extravagance..."

Refusing to be baited, the man clenched his jaw. "Quite the opposite in fact, and I don't care /who/ you are... You'll show some respect for your King!"

"You've never met him, have you."

"That doesn't matter!"

The dark man laughed, suddenly amused. "Very well then soldier, give me my letters... and thank you for a job well done."

"I'm supposed to brief you as well, /sir/."

"Are you...?"

"/And/ wait for a response... /Sir/..."

Laro's humor vanished, his face suddenly serious. "I suggest you find something to amuse yourself with for a while then... I /will/ take the letters now... but putting up with a briefing from /you/ can wait until after dinner... I assume you know the way to the clinic... after /that/... we can /discuss/ the possibility of my giving you any response. Do I make myself clear?"

The captain balked at the coldly precise instructions. "...yes sir."

"Then I suggest you find the inn... it must have been a long trip... if you'll excuse me..." Laro accepted the small bag containing several sheaves of paper, and turned away, the conference was over. Silently moving to stand beside Kuja, he kept his eyes fixed on the water, fists clenched until the men re-mounted and turned their horses towards town. 

********************

The cat-man divided his attention between his companion and the departing riders with amused curiosity. Forestalling his questions with a look, the soldier continued their walk down the beach, working off the last of his tension. Kuja waited until he saw the tight shoulders finally relax before saying what had been on the tip of his tongue for the past several minutes.

"... 'just a simple soldier'.... hmmmm...?"

"I know..."

"'Nobody important'....?"

"I know..."

"'Nothing to tell really'... hmmm?"

"I didn't want you to think you had to... it's just that..."

Kuja dropped his teasing tone, sensing the mood was still too fragile to harass the man further. "You were worried I wouldn't like you... if I knew...?"

"I guess... It... didn't seem to matter, if you knew or not... and I was so tired of everybody bowing-and-scraping... I just wanted..."

The cat-man shrugged. "I'm not blind you know... I had already figured it out, mostly..."

Laro blinked. "You did...? And you didn't say anything...?"

"What would it have accomplished? I understand, not wanting to tell me..." He smiled and gave the soldier a gentle shove. "If you think that I'm going to start bowing to you however... you'd better revise your expectations."

"Never... you should never bow to me..." He laughed, scratching his head in embarrassment. "Ah well... now you know my 'big secret'... it's a relief I guess..."

"If you say it is..." Kuja smiled knowingly.

"Some day, I'll have to figure out what your secret is..."

"... Some day... I'll tell you..." The cat-man smile grew broader, and leaving his friend staring in surprise, he sprinted ahead down the beach, delighting in the texture of sand between his toes.

*************************

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Notes: At this rate, I'll never get where I'm going.... oh well, no loss. Not like I have an agenda with this fic. Just goofing around after all. ^_^;

--Lunar

http://roodinverse.dreamhost.com


	6. and My Spirits Lift with Gentle Laughter

**Feather Flight:** **"****And **My Spirits Lift with Gentle Laughter " (part 6)****

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language, angst, kissing

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Letters were spread out on his desk like scattered corpses while Laro sat silently on his bed trying to find some semblance of his usual peace. Staring at his nervously clenched hands, he took a shaking breath and forced the muscles to relax. For an insane moment he was tempted to burn the offensive papers and forget them. The thought was a powerless one. With his decision already made, he stood and opened a long forgotten closet, pulling out a shrouded object. Peeling back the dusty wrappings, he stared at the pole-arm, eyes tracing the well-remembered form before scooping it up to test its weight. Holding the solid shaft was no problem, but a year of inactivity had left the movements shaky, unacceptable.

// I don't want to go back there...//

He gave the long spear a practiced twist, rolling it over his forearm and jabbing it upwards.

// Haven't I done enough...? //

The single candle cast crazy, flickering shadows as his exercises stirred the night-air. 

// This will end badly... I know it. //

Laro sighed, feeling his still weak muscles complain. He propped the weapon at the end of his bed, and extinguishing the candle; vainly preparing himself for sleep.

// I have work to do... //

*************************

Kuja stared blankly out his window at the brilliant afternoon. The day was perfect, but he had no desire to go out. Tucking his chin more firmly against his knees, he sat quietly in his room trying to formulate a plan. The voices in the study below had long since faded -the guests gone at last- but rather than bringing an end to the previous day's unsettling encounter, it left him with an empty feeling. The military men had gone, but had announced their intention to return. In one month they would come back, and everything would end. The cat-man hissed softly to himself. They would be back in a month, and Laro had agreed to it, he would be going with them.

// He's... he's leaving. //

// He's leaving me. //

The silver-haired man sighed, looking away from the window to glance around his room. Every his eyes fell he could not help but notice all the random 'things' he had accrued in his brief time there. Trinkets and tokens were displayed carefully on the shelves, many originating as gifts from the eternally cheerful dark man. He studied his collection of shells thoughtfully, admiring their delicate colors.

// But he wasn't happy last night... he was miserable... and he's leaving... // Kuja frowned. // Why does he go if he doesn't want to... he should stay /here/... he was /sick/. It's too soon! // 

// He's healed now, so there's no reason to stay... // The thought came unbidden, unpleasant. He shook his head in denial. 

// But I don't /want/ him to go! // 

// He's needed... // There was no reasoning with his logical side, its arguments were implacable. 

// /I/ need him too... What if he dies?! // 

He stopped cold. 

// It's a war after all... people die all the time in wars... you /know/ that... He /could/ die... // Kuja clenched the bedding in sudden dread. // But he's going... he's going to leave you in a month... thirty days, starting today... So what will you do...? //

// What will you do...? //

The cat-man forced his emotions away, and began to plan in earnest.

*************************

By some unspoken agreement, Laro never spoke again of his upcoming departure. In his own mind he was almost relieved; it had been painful enough the first time. It had taken two days for him to finally gather the nerve to break the news to his closest friend. The whole affair was remarkably anticlimactic when he looked back on it. The cat-man, had already known everything. 

// Although he refuses to admit /how/ he knew... I wonder if he was listening at the door... I should talk to him about that... // 

The scolding humor of the thought faded quickly, he wasn't in the mood. 

// ...He took it so calmly... so quietly... like he was alright with it... but then, since then he's just been /quiet/... it's as if in not discussing /this/... we can think of nothing else to say... He's angry with me, he must be. Hell, /I'm/ angry with me... but what can I do...? //

The soldier hated the way his thoughts wandered as he trained. When he was working with his weapons at least, he could force himself to focus, monitoring his motions for flaws or weakness, but when he was simply working his muscles, his mind drifted to other things while his body grew strong. More often then not, thoughts of the silver-haired youth filled his head, bringing him a guilty sort of worry.

// Not to mention the new training schedule rather restricts my free time... so it seems I barely see him... // A flash of white and gray caught his eye as he lifted the bucket full of rocks again, something that could have been a hand on the window frame across from him. The hinted movement almost caused him to smile.

// Then again, he never seems to be far either... is he watching me?... But from where... // He scanned the other windows and the nearby doorway surreptitiously, but could sense nothing. There were only shadows. // He is better at hiding than anyone I've ever met... myself included... still I wish he'd come out and /talk/ to me... or at least be visible... it's a little unnerving to be watched like this. Where /are/ you Masa... //

He let out a sigh, and set the weights down, flexing his arm to check for soreness and finding none. It had been painful at first to recondition the weak muscles, his body aching with fatigue every night as he crawled into bed. A less masochistic man wouldn't have declared it possible to become battle ready in a month, Laro smirked at the thought. A less masochistic man would've told the army to take a leap off the pier and take his re-enlistment papers with them. Still, he had only a week left in the idyllic town, and was nervous that he would leave with things still unresolved between himself and the strange man who seemed to have taken entire possession of his heart. Maybe silence was the cat-man's way of saying 'goodbye' but the soldier refused to accept the idea that he could walk away without saying /something/, to somehow let the still fragile waif from feeling completely abandoned.

// You could take him /with/ you... you know... there's nothing stopping you. // 

He grimaced. //Except your morals, your ethics, your honor, your training, and basic human decency... // 

He would not bring Masa any closer to the war than the man already was, it was simply too dangerous, an unacceptable risk. 

// And even taking him as far as the capital... /no/... the intrigues, the gossips... they'd think him a monster, or a spy, or an animal or /worse/... no... he's accepted /here/... he's safe /here/... He's just going to have to accept that... //

// I'm just going to have to accept that. // With a sigh, he went in to clean up, then find the ghostly youth.

*************************

"Can I come in...?"

"If you like." Kuja forced his heartbeat to remain calm, subconsciously monitoring the tension in the air. The dark man slid quietly into the darkened room, pausing a hesitant moment before taking his customary seat at the end of the bed.

"Hey..." 

The silver-haired man 'humphed' slightly at Laro's gentle greeting; watching his companion for a moment before returning to his study of the moon. 

"Great night, hmmm?"

"The Net is rather bright."

"... Yes, I suppose it is..." 

Kuja could feel the soldier squirm, but was unwilling to make it any easier on the man. His plans all depended on /this/. There wouldn't be time for another try. It would have to be tonight. For all his determination he found he could only wait, praying that for once the dark man would bring up the forbidden topic. This was not an argument he was prepared to start.

// Funny... I used to adore plays... acting... but now... I've never needed to pretend quite so badly as I do now... all my life I've wanted to pretend and have been forced to be what I am... and the one time I want to just /be/... here I am... pretending... what does he see I wonder... the facade...? Or can he look deeper... can he know what a fake I am... // He glanced over at the soldier, his face an indifferent mask. 

// Can he see how scared I am...? //

"Masa... I... I don't want to leave and have you still angry with me..." The sudden confession forced the cat-man out of his indifferent pose, staring at his friend in confusion.

"...Angry...?"

"You've practically ignored me for /weeks/, Masa... I'm not blind you know."

"How have I ignored you..."

"We don't talk!"

"How am I to blame if you don't want to talk to me..."

"You /know/ I do..."

"I know nothing... I thought I knew... but now all you're interested in is your stupid war... and you're leaving me." He hadn't intended to say it that way, but he couldn't completely erase the hurt from his voice.

"I... I have to do this thing... I guess they need me... They're making a mistake, of course..."

"Of course..."

"... but they need me... I... don't expect you to understand. This must all seem rather strange to you... our war, all of this..." Laro sighed, resting his elbows on his knees. "I'm sorry, Masa."

// Now...? It had better be now... //

It was alarmingly easy to allow his eyes to become watery, tears threatening to spill over as he looked over to his miserable companion. For a satisfying instant he noticed the soldier's reaction, the flash of alarm on his expressive face. Still, there was no time to feel sorry for the man. Kuja was playing the game to win. He sniffed pathetically. "Don't go Laro..."

"Masa?"

"Please...? I don't want you to go!" 

"Masa, don't do this..." Unable to resist the silvery man's tears, Laro moved to wrap him in a tight hug, tucking the fine strands of hair and feathers beneath his chin. "Shhhh, don't cry kitten... please don't... I have to go... You know I have to go..."

"Then take me with you!" The dark man said nothing, simply holding him tighter, shaking his head in negation. "Laro!"

"No."

"Don't leave me here!"

"I /can't/."

"When you go there'll be /no one/."

"Ing will look after you while I'm away."

"I don't /trust/ Ing. He only likes me because you do."

"Now I know that's not true." Laro shook him gently his tone scolding. The cat-man pulled away enough to glare at him.

"Do you? Are you sure?"

"You're being paranoid."

"I have every right to be. As you say, I'm a stranger in this place."

"You trust me..."

"You're different."

The soldier heaved a sigh as he tried to retrace the illogical conversation. His emotions were rapidly becoming a painful tangle, watching the still tearful blue eyes as the pale man stared at him was not helping. Moving slowly so as to not startle the cat-man, he caught the slim face, wiping away the shiny drops. 

"Take me with you..."

"It's too dangerous."

"I don't care about the danger..."

"/I/ do! I don't want you getting hurt!"

"Take me with you."

"Masa!"

"/Please/ Laro! If you won't let me go to the front, at least let me go as far as I can! I'll do whatever you want! I'll come back here /later/... just /please/..."

"This is not open to discussion!" Still, the dark man would not let go completely, hands relinquishing the delicate face to slide to his shoulders and down his arms, gripping them tightly.

"As far as the capital then... at least let me go to the capital!"

"Why? what does it matter? I'll only be there long enough to get my orders and the reinforcements!"

"It /matters/, you great idiot! /You'll/ be there... and besides..."

The soldier raised an eyebrow curiously at the hesitant addendum. Kuja's features, hidden in the shadows of his wild hair, were a mystery. " ... besides...?"

The cat-man sniffed again, dispelling the last of his tears. "If you don't take me... I'll likely never get another chance... you'll go off and /die/ and I'll be trapped in this sea-side /prison/ /forever/! Or until the war gets here... or the doctor decides to dissect me... and I /must/ go to the city!"

"Why...?" Thrown by the change of tack, Laro couldn't follow at all.

"It's the capitol /right/...?"

"...yes..."

"So it must have a lot of your country's culture... and schools... and libraries..."

"... yes..."

"I need to go to a library, Laro... a /real/ one... I have so many questions... about this place... about how I came to be here... I'll never get my answers by staying /here/..."

For some obscure reason, the knight felt hurt. "You... want me to take you with me... because you are afraid that if something happens to me... You won't get to read some books...?"

"You don't seem to care for my other reasons... so /yes/." The silver-haired youth was unmistakably sulking.

"I don't believe you..." Laro almost felt like laughing at the grumpy response, but was uncertain if it would come out a laugh or a sob. Fighting for control, he did not notice the cat-man new shift in strategy until it was too late.

"/Please/ Laro... I just... I... let me stay with you a while longer..." Kuja easily freed his arms from the slack grip, taking advantage of the dark man's hesitance to creep closer, crawling into his lap. Before he had cuddled close to the large man for comfort, now his movement was subtler, hands sliding around the warm chest to ghost up the soldier's back pulling them together. His next words were a breath in Laro's ear. "Let me come... I promise. I'll make it up to you..."

"Masa... what..." 

"Shhhh." 

Kuja laid a series of kisses along the unresisting neck, causing the larger man to shiver. "Let me stay with you..." Feeling arms tighten involuntarily around him, the cat-man worked a hand free sending it up to ghost over the still prominent scar running down the side of the soldier's face. The thin white line was too old and ingrained for the cure-spell to remove, a permanent reminder of his past ordeals. 

The dark man stared in amazement at the sudden shift in mood. Working his other hand free, the mage caught the large face between his palms, silencing any further questions with a gentle kiss. When the dark man didn't pull away, he kissed him again, a little more confidently, the lips pressing against his beginning to respond. Kuja pulled back a little to assess his handiwork. Even with moonlight and dark skin the soldier looked flushed, his breath coming in surprised pants. The cat-man pressed himself closer experimentally, resisting the urge to smile archly when the arms holding him matched his efforts, wrapping around his lower back possessively. Deliberately meeting the dazed eyes, he pulled the scarred face closer once again, kissing the man seductively. This time the response was immediate, their mouths hungrily locking, tasting. Breaking away only when breathing became imperative, the silvery man watched his unknowing-prey. The man's desire was obvious.

// I knew it... the way he watched me... People always said that my looks were my greatest asset... Do you want me Laro...? How much... how much are you willing to do to get me... //

"Do you think I'm beautiful...?" 

Laro was taken aback by the question, lost in the suddenly bright blue eyes. He couldn't believe what was happening, one corner of his mind was still blinking stupidly while the rest was running around in circles crying, 'He kissed me!' His voice when he found it, had a decided wobble in it.

"You're gorgeous... an angel..."

The cat-man smiled coyly, his voice a whisper. "Do you want me...?"

"...Yes..."

"Take me with you..." 

The soldier blinked in alarm, both at the way he felt his resolve crumbling, and the sudden draft on his chest as deft fingers loosened the ties on his shirt. He made an attempt to stand firm. "Masa, sto- wahhh!" Interrupted by the shirt being pulled over his head, he shook the hair from his eyes to discover he once more possessed a lap full of eager beauty. Teasing lips went to work against his once more, and despite his intention, he found himself kissing back for all he was worth as hands tangled in his hair. For a moment, it was pure bliss.

"Say yes..."

"This is wrong..."

"Here I am... /throwing/ myself at you... and it's wrong...?"

"Masa..."

"Take me with you, and you can have me whenever you want..." 

Lips worked against his again, but the words echoed oddly in his ear, killing the mood more effectively that Laro thought possible. Catching a hold of the youth's arms he carefully but deliberately pushed him away. "Masa, stop this." 

Kuja froze at the anger in his voice. "...Laro...?"

"What the Hell do you think you're /doing/...?!" 

Blue eyes winced, looking faintly guilty. "... I just..."

// He... he doesn't want me...? //

"I expected you to be /angry/ with me... not try to manipulate my decisions like some sort of painted whore! I... You... /Why/?!" 

// ... whore?! You /bastard/! //

"What do you /mean/ '/why/?!' I should think it was obvious!" Rejected, and now angry himself, Kuja shook free of the painful grip and rolled off the mattress. 

"Apparently not, since I'm completely clueless!"

"That's because you're an imbecile."

Laro started at the venom in the words, noting the way the slim man's fists were clenched, the tail fluffed to twice its normal size. "... at least I'm honest."

"So am I..."

"Explain then." He had a feeling that the night was a long way from being over.

Kuja stared at him a moment before letting go of his anger, sagging to the floor with a sigh. "...What else could I offer you...? I... I /can't stay here/, Laro... if you go... I'll go mad. I'll be alone, and if I had never met you then I wouldn't have cared... but now... I just /can't/ let you leave me... not like this... not when it'll probably be forever. I'm not afraid of war, Laro, I know what war is. What I don't know is what I'll do without you... And then I thought... well I could be useful to you somehow... in the city... If I could just learn more about things... I may never be a 'warrior'... but I'm not helpless... maybe there's something they missed... maybe I could help... But I can't help /anyone/ if I'm stuck /here/!"

"I..." The dark man grimaced. "I thought you wanted to research how to go home..."

Kuja laughed bitterly. "What for, I hated it there... every waking moment, I hated." He shrugged, "I wanted to go with you for as long as you'd let me... I thought... once we got to the capital I could convince you to take me further... that's what /I/ wanted... and well, /you/ wanted..." He waves a hand to include himself, blushing slightly. "... And I thought, it's a fair trade, isn't it...? We both get something we want..."

"No, Masa... it's not what I want... not like that..." Laro felt ill at what he had almost allowed to happen. "Never like that..."

"But..."

He slid to the floor, kneeling in front of the once again crying youth. "You /are/ beautiful, kitten. And I /do/ want you... but not like that... I /love/ you, you idiot. I thought you knew that... If I ever... we ever... and I never expected you to... but if we ever... I want it to be because you love me too..."

"I don't believe in 'love'... It's just a hormonal imbalance..."

"That'll make it rather difficult for us I expect." Laro couldn't help but tease a little, needing to lighten the mood for his own sake if for no other reason. The cat-man snorted softly.

"If you love me, take me with you."

"Ah, but as I love you, I must keep you safe..."

"Laro, if this war goes on as it has done... no place will be safe for long."

"...I know..." He closed his eyes, knowing what he was about to say would damn him to a life of regret. "...If you come with me... It'll be dangerous... even the capital... if people found out about you..."

"I know."

"When I go to the front you come back /here/... understood...?"

"But..."

"No buts!"

"...so I can come with you...?"

"... yes..."

"Are you sure you wouldn't..." A pale hand caressed his chest suggestively. "I don't mind... really..."

"Stop it."

"You can be as rough as you like... I'm not as fragile as I look..."

"Masa!" Flustered, and more tempted then he cared to admit, Laro pulled away sharply. "No more talk of that now... /listen/ to yourself... no... this isn't you talking... you don't want this..."

"What does what I want have to do with it..."

The soldier blinked in amazement. "What...?"

"I'm /pretty/... people /want/ me... that's the way it /is/... it's just sex Laro... I... I know how to please men... I've always known how. They take me to bed, and they take what they want, and ... and then it's done, and they go."

"... 'they take what they want'...? Masa... oh god Masa is that what you think this is...? Is that what you think I am?!"

"I... I don't know... mostly with others, I didn't really care... it was just another means to an end... but with you... it would be different, since I'm asking you to... And you are a far more gentle person than the others..."

"... I wish you had told me..."

"Why?"

"Because! Damn it Masa, /that/ is not /normal/! People don't just /use/ people... It's... it's supposed to be /nice/, you're /supposed/ to enjoy it... not just suffer through it... it's not supposed to hurt."

"You're an idealist."

"Yes, I guess I am. But Masa, from now on, if /anyone/ touches you in a way you don't like... I swear I'll feed them their teeth. And /then/ I'll get creative..." He pulled the cat-man gently into his arms again; body pointedly reminding him that it had been a long day, and a longer night. "You feel this is the only way you can repay me...? Would you hear a compromise maybe?"

"What's your compromise? Aside from me coming home after you go to the front."

"I won't... I won't sleep with you... but, from now on, you /are/ mine... that means you have to do as I say... at least in public... you stick with me. You stay where I can keep an eye on you; and if you so much as /try/ to seduce someone else, so help me..."

"What, not jealous...?"

"Completely."

"How adorable."

"Stop that."

"I'm sorry..." Kuja tilted his head to study the man thoughtfully. "So... now that you have me... now what...?"

"You agree to terms...?"

"I get to go with you, and get to see the libraries, and see the Court... then yes, I'll behave."

"In that case, I'm exhausted, and would like to go sleep..." Laro pulled the mage to his feet, intending to tuck him in before leaving. The bed looked horribly tempting, and seeming to read his mind, the smaller man had caught his hands, walking backwards towards the soft mattress. "Masa..." He growled warningly.

"Just to sleep... that's all... you're tired. And you /did/ want me to stick close to you..."

"So I did." His better judgment having already sought its bed, he shrugged and allowed himself to be crowded against the wall. For a tense moment he held still, the night of his fever still fresh in his memory. But as the lithe form pulled the blankets over them both and settled into the hollow at his side, he wrapped his arms around the body, content to simply fall asleep. Laro was so tired that he wasn't even bothered by the feathers tickling his chin.

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Notes: I blame Kuja... he ran off laughing with this chapter, and refused to give it back. A rather lame chapter if I do say so myself, someday I'll fix it... maybe.

--Lunar

http://roodinverse.dreamhost.com


	7. Do You See What You Do To Me?

**Feather Flight: ****"Do You See What You Do To Me?" (part 7)**

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

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Kuja was spared the dual uproars of the morning- the discovery of Laro in his bed, and then the news that he too would be traveling at the end of the month- by the simple expedient of sleeping through them.  It wasn't until the late morning sunlight made it impossible to squeeze another lazy hour out of the day that he finally relented and dug himself out of his impromptu cave of pillows. He thought hard to try and recollect the last time he had allowed himself to lounge in bed until noon and could only muster a vague memory of satin sheets and the admittedly bizarre architecture of the Desert Palace.  The over the top opulence may have been a rebellion against the austere functionality of Garland's domain, but it had been a comfortable rebellion. The mage stretched slowly, wondering if he really missed it at all.

// Making servants out of marionettes… they're obedient, sure… but not terribly personable… nothing like Laro…//  He grinned at his rumpled reflection and tossed in a saucy wink. 

// For one, he's sweet enough to protect my beauty sleep, or my feigned beauty sleep. Easier for him to face down the invading nurses than I… I almost feel bad for the big lump… Ing's expression must have been priceless. //

Yawning hugely, he took his time puttering around and setting his scarce possessions in order before padding downstairs.  It was impossible to miss the variety of odd looks aimed his direction. 

// What… you'd think that they'd never seen a proper seduction before… // He grimaced into his lunch, packing it away efficiently. // Well, 'attempted seduction'… and an embarrassing one at that. But they don't need to know that. //

Kuja looked thoughtfully out the window. // I'm going with him. //

Positioned at the edge of the small dining hall, he couldn't miss the small physician's flustered arrival. The cat-man sighed as Ing made a bee-line for his table. "Masa."

"I'm going."

Startled at the out of character coolness of his patient, the doctor had to pause to gather his thoughts. "Are you sure? It will be dangerous."

"That seems to be the consensus, yes. And yes, I am still going."

"The Kai is a very important person, he has many duties… I would feel better if you were someplace…"

"… More secure?"

"I was going to say more accepting of outsiders, child. These are not carefree times in which to travel. Your appearance cannot fail to attract attention."

"I know how to 'blend', doctor. I can play 'human' when I have to."

Obviously torn, the thin man smoothed the front of his robe. "In that case, you'd better come with me. Nazer-kai has asked that you be equipped with proper clothing for the trip, things suitable for city-life… The tailor may need some help dealing with your special situation."

Kuja had the grace not to laugh at the carefully chosen words. // He makes it sound like I will need two left-shoes or something… I'm not a /mutant/ who needs to walk around in a cowl and cape… // He paused, catching himself sharply.

// But I am, aren't I… // Scraping the last of the soup from bowl, he quietly stood and nodded.

"Your introduction will be greatly appreciated, but I am sure I can manage to explain any modifications he will need to make. It is a process I have had some experience with after all."

Looking relieved, the mustached-man smiled a little. "Yes of course, you're right. Come along… I need to see to some other things as well today."

*************************

"Well, boots and socks will disguise your feet…"

"… and those are underway…"

"And we can dress you in long coats and robes for the tail…"

"That is acceptable…"

The old man blinked and hung his cloth-tape around his neck in defeat. "But good lord child, what are we going to do about your /Hair/…"

Kuja blinked uncomprehendingly before turning back to the mirror. His frustrated sigh set the feathers mixed into his bangs to floating on a private breeze. The entire mass was now just beginning to tickle his shoulders, and was unmistakably bright silver. The cat-man's eyes narrowed as he considered his options, watching his tailor's reflection do the same.

"What if you were to pluck and dye?"

"No way in Hell."

*************************

It was almost evening by the time Laro staggered out of training to surrender to the inevitable. The mild land-breeze encouraged him to forget about the tedious chore in town and wander the beach, but somehow it wouldn't be the same without his sharp-tongued companion. Of the cat-man there had been no sign. Sighing in annoyance at the world at large, he found his way to a small unassuming shop off of the main street.

// God I hate uniforms… //

To his surprise, the wrinkled tailor was already helping someone else. The younger customer was obviously nearing the end of his own fitting. An array of carefully cut and folded stacks of material around him implied jackets, robes, and other basic essentials of city life.

// A student then? Or a scholar heading back to town? // The long volumes of cloth were as alien to the soldier as a pair of wings. They were favored by the more sedate and intellectual court population and nothing but a hindrance his action-focused mind. He gave the rich colored clothing a last glance of amusement and sought a chair.  His predecessor had managed to acquire the only two.  With a sigh that spoke volumes about his day, the officer gave his companion a more thorough investigation. 

Seeming determined to try to nap as the mayhem of cloth and cutting went on around him, the young man was slouched deep into one of the fitting-room chairs, his feet propped on the other. His traveling-hat shielded his face from the last of the sunset and meager lamplight, providing ample anonymity for his rest. Despite the bored posture there was a certain air of fashion about the scholar. There was also something rather familiar. On a whim, Laro reached over to claim the tightly woven straw obstacle. Disbelief warred with satisfaction when he matched the face and form.

"Oi, Masa. Move your feet."

*************************

Blinking against the unwelcome intrusion of lamplight, Kuja refrained from growling long enough to recognize his tormentor. It wasn't all that surprising to see the soldier, but it was sufficient enough that he instinctively sacrificed his foot rest so the taller man could sit. He watched Laro settle himself, more than aware that his gaze was being returned with interest. The darn man was studying him thoughtfully. It was a little unnerving.

// Well, of course he's interested… this is the first time I've worn anything that isn't a hand-me-down from someone a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier… But does he /like/ it? Or think it's strange? Or /what/… I hate it when I can't read him… // 

His scalp hurt. His hair was still adjusting to an unfamiliar style. Kuja glanced to his right a moment to reexamine the strict line of his profile, with his hair pulled flat against his head and into a tight if embarrassingly short braid, he almost didn't recognize himself.  

// A little too tight I think… // He refrained from rubbing a particularly sore spot, not wanting to set his work in disarray.  The style was uncomfortable, but it did have a number of advantages, the main of which was keeping feathers pinned discretely to his skull. With the addition of a hat, he would feel confident that there was nothing particularly remarkable about his head at all.  

// The color could be an asset after all. If people are too busy ogling the silver, they won't notice any of the smaller subterfuges. And having it slicked back does sort of discourage anyone from wanting to play with it… //  The cat-man grimaced, feeling off balance by his almost sterile looking appearance. 

// I wonder if Laro… // He crushed the thought immediately. It was frivolous to wonder if the taller man liked his hair or any other part of his new look. Dependence on the man for daily needs was acceptable. He strictly forbid himself to further emotional attachment. It had gone too far already.

// And me mooning all day like some sort of fairy-tale princess picking out gowns for a ball… no. I do this for the sake of disguise, nothing more. //

It was impossible to deny the basic pleasure he had felt in being able to try on new clothing. The soft texture of linen and the heavier cottons that made up his shirt and robe reminded him of more civilized times and places. Somehow the brief and refreshing burst of vanity had left him with the taller man's arrival. He sat on his hands to still them, feeling nervous and uncertain. Kuja glared at his calmly appraising friend. 

"You're late."

Laro made an eloquent face and turned away, continuing to toy with the hat. "Yes, well, I'd have waited… but the sooner I get it over with the better, I guess."

"Get it over with?"

"The fitting, I've never been a fan of getting crammed into the damn jackets."

"Do you get one like those gentlemen on the beach? They weren't that bad looking…" The cat-man received a hard look for his teasing tone.

"They itch."

"Ah…"

His turn done, the silver-haired man opted to stay and watch Laro's fitting. It was a far more perfunctory affair than his own had been. Many of the man's measurements were apparently already on file. The tailors simply wished to check for final adjustments on the sleeve and leg. Kuja grinned at the man's long-suffering expression.

"Nazer-kai, I'll schedule Juhei to see you next week to start your hair?"

"How long do you think it'll take…?" The forlorn face transformed into a full grimace.

"Two sessions? Maybe three?"

The cat-man forbore to comment until they had been ejected back onto the dusky street. "Hair?"

"Don't ask."

"Oh but I think I must…"

"It's not curlers or anything, if that's what you mean."

"A pity, and here I thought they'd do you up in ringlets."

"You're a cruel man, Masa."

"So what are they going to do to you that requires three sessions?" Feeling suddenly playful, he linked arms with the soldier, catching him by surprise.

Laro gave him a measured look, reaching out to deliberately tug on the end of the short braid. "This."

"Hey!" Nursing his tender scalp he shot an evil look at his escort. "Several days to do one braid? You barely have more hair than I do…"

"Several days for several braids, actually."

"Really? How many?" The sudden image of Laro with a head like a starfish almost made him laugh.

The dark-man heard the amusement and inferred the reason. "Don't be daft. I have no idea how many actually, I've never counted. /A lot/ to say the least. Hundreds."

"Really? Whatever for?"

"Tradition, I suppose. War braids."

"Ooooh and do you cut one off to give to your lady-love as a token when you go out onto the field of honor?"

"Do I /what/?" 

Kuja shook his head, dismissing the question. "Never mind, it's a literary thing… read it in a play once."

"Oh…" The taller man shrugged his voice strangely hesitant. "I wouldn't know about that, I've never had anyone who needed a token from me one way or the other."

The rest of the walk back to the clinic was a quiet, almost uncomfortably so. Laro seemed lost in thought, and the cat-man kicked himself quietly for killing the relaxed mood. Somehow it didn't seem a good idea to leave things as they were, and not knowing why, he decided to try and lure the man out of his shell. They stood a moment in the hallway outside of his room. The soldier obviously still miles away, barely aware that they were already 'home.' 

Kuja hesitated briefly before gently shaking the closest arm. "Hey, anyone alive in there?" The way the taller man almost jumped proved his assumptions. His would-be lover was badly in need of a distraction. "It's too early to sleep, and I've been cooped up in that stuffy shop all day, take a walk with me?"

"…Walk?"

"Yes. Walk. You know, perambulation? Moving one's limbs in a directed manner in order to cover distance?"

The drawling tone succeeded in finally producing a smile, and Laro shook his head in disbelief. "I swear… you have more /words/ locked in that little scull of yours than anyone I know… pretending to be a scholar suits you…"

Still playing the clown, Kuja twirled once to show off his new sheath-like robe. It buttoned closed at the collar and along the chest before being belted. The long drape was cut to allow free movement of his legs, but hung to a discrete calf-length. "Nay good sir, playing a scholar suits my tail." He made a mournful face. "I had to convince that unimaginative tailor that it simply wouldn't do to have it shoved down a pants' leg."

"That can't be comfortable."

"You have no idea." The silver-haired man tilted his head. "So, how about a walk?"

This time his question was met with an amused shrug. "Why not."

"Good, I'll just ditch these painful things, and we'll be on our way…" It was simple to tug the larger man into the room. Sitting on the bed, he began the harder task of tugging off his new boots. "Makes no sense to get them dirty, and barefoot at this point would be a blessing.

Laro watched a moment before moving to help with a smile. "Here, it's going to take a few days to break those in…" With the taller man pulling, all Kuja had to do was cling to the bedpost to keep from being dragged onto the floor. Free at last, he rubbed his feet with a growl. It only made the soldier laugh again.

"I'm so glad that my pain amuses you."

"I'm sorry, it's just really strange to see you dressed… like this."

"God forbid I wear clothing."

"That is NOT what I meant and you know it…" The soldier had relaxed at last, and moved to perform a similar rescue operation on the cat-man's hair. Kuja batted his hand away.

"Leave it, the longer it stays in this god awful style, the less it will hurt later."

"It looks really…"

"Painful."

"I was going to say, 'official.' But yes, that too."

"Do I look the proper little bureaucrat then? You didn't say anything earlier, so I assumed that I could pose as person fit to associate with the /Great Kai/…"

"I thought you looked fine before…"

"Fine for what? Being kept on a leash? Or in a cage? Or perhaps an exotic addition to your bed…?"

Laro winced. "If I had my way you would do as you pleased and to hell with the bigots. But…"

"Exactly… So let it go, and leave my hair in peace for a moment longer. It isn't /that/ annoying, and really, I am not unaccustomed to pretending to be what I am not." Slipping past the larger man, Kuja opened the door with a flourish. "Shall we go out?"

*************************

The surf was calm; long weeks of sun had set the tone for the season. They had also assisted in some cosmetic repairs to Laro's ever present dark tan. The almost sallow look that had plagued him as an invalid was now impossible to imagine. Kuja frowned, trying to reconcile the two separate images of the man.

// And this is only half-recovered? He must have looked as though he was cut from iron-wood when he was at the top of his form… nothing but chestnut colored muscle and bone… //

Thinking of a wooden version of Laro lead to considering a sculpture of the man, and then how the sculpture would look best if it was bare-chested, or just bare period.  The mage squelched the idea ruthlessly, shunting it into the corner with all his other stupid fancies. His soldier was hardly the sort to pose naked for anything, much less for his own amateur drawing efforts.

// It'd be impossible to find charcoal and paper anyway… Art… music… god, this place is so strange I'd almost forgotten about old hobbies… What do they consider art here, I wonder… He mentioned a 'court'… so there would be music there surely, and dancing and other courtly things…//  He frowned. 

// Wouldn't there? //

"Laro…"

"mmmm?" The tall man looked up from his idle study of the sand.

"What's the capital like? The people? I really don't have any idea what to expect…"

Dark eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "What do you want to know? It's a city… I really don't know much to say about it, I've never stayed long… country-bumpkin that I am."

"You?"

"Born and raised. Fishermen. The whole lot of them."

"Around here?"

"No, further north." The man came to a stop, turning to watch the waves roll in.

Sensing the grim mood return, Kuja could have kicked himself. "I'm sorry. I just seem to find one depressing topic after another tonight…" Wondering what the reaction would be, he tucked his hand around the larger arm once again, not leaning, simply touching; a silent offer of support.

"I doubt we'll see much of the town, but the castle is a predictably grand affair. It also has a college attached to it, which makes it seem bigger than it really needs to be. Merritoi used to be something of a cultural center before the war, but when the real capital was ploughed under, well, people just shifted west abit…" Laro's voice was mild and conversational, obviously seeking to distance himself from the past by talking about lighter, less emotional things. The cat-man made an appropriately interested noise, and gently squeezed the captive arm as a signal to continue.

"The current King is just turning thirty I guess, decent statesman, lousy fighter. He's smart enough to know what he's good at and tries to stay out of the way of the rest. Sometimes he's more successful than others. He's popular enough, but the real power is usually split between the generals, the college president, and Lord Riquoi. That old skeleton has a lot of power, even if he doesn't flaunt it. They make a show at the capital of having a senate and letting everyone have their say… but in the end the real decisions are made by five men who as likely as not will stay up all night drinking bourbon and playing Calist"

"Calist?"

"It's sort of card game where you are in a team and can win either by betting or bribery…" The soldier shrugged. "I was never any good at it. They said I couldn't bluff my way out of a paper sack."

"You do have a rather expressive face…" The silver-haired man chuckled lightly. "It's a good thing that battles are fought over long distances it seems."

"Military strategy is completely different."

"Is it? Well it doesn't matter…" Kuja smirked at the blunt assessment of the city politics. "So the 'great Nazer-kai' frequently attended this private council?"

"Once, yes…"

"And you've since been replaced."

"Very likely…"

"And your return will cause no hard feelings?"

Laro looked down is surprise at the question. "What do you mean? A general is a general. It isn't as if someone has to get demoted when I go back…"

"Won't they? Is there a spare army just lying about that no one is commanding?" A shake of the dark man's head agreed with his point. "And given a choice, would the deciding powers at the capital rather have 'the great Kai'? or the man who replaced him…"

"I begin to see your point."

"I wonder that you never considered it before now."

The soldier shrugged whimsically. "I told you, I've never had a good head for politics…"

"That can be a fatal weakness sometimes, great Kai…"

Startled by the formality of the cat-man's tone, Laro dumbly nodded his head in agreement.

*************************

// Why do I have the strange feeling that I'd be better off letting /him/ lead the army… Masa isn't usually this serious. //  

His surprise seemed to be contagious. The smaller man suddenly flinched under his wide-eyed stare and stared fixedly at the moonlit surf. For a moment he was tempted to push the issue, to force the secretive creature to reveal the source of his remarkable and unfathomable knowledge. It seemed there was next to nothing that his wily friend didn't know, or couldn't deduce. 

// Trained surely, a scholar in his homeland? Or is he just exceptionally good at thinking in devious patterns… Hell, I should teach him Calist, he's probably sweep the table. // He pushed his bemused thoughts aside in favor of glossing over the tense moment. Whatever the cat-man's secrets were, they wouldn't be revealed tonight.

"Who'd have thought my little kitten would make such a marvelous political advisor."

Kuja tensed again and then deliberately relaxed, flashing a sardonic smile up at his escort.  "I /told/ you that I would come in handy… And you didn't believe me."

"Heh, I'm reconsidering my words now, I assure you. What else have you got in that bag of tricks of yours, kitten?"

The silver-haired man danced backwards out of reach of his playful grab, 'tsk'-ing merrily. "You'll just have to tell me more about the situation and see won't you…."

"What else do you want to know?"

Kuja tilted his head thoughtfully. "Tell me about this 'council of five,' what sort of men are they?"

Wondering what other revelations he had to look forward to, Laro shrugged and racked his brains for trivia about the capital. "Last I heard… the college president was still Dean Finlay. She's the real head of government at the local level. Before King Martinosso moved in, the castle portion of the college was mostly just for show. She doubles as academic head, and mayor." He scratched his head trying to think of a way to describe the sensible woman.

"She's a bit of an 'old battle ax' really… We got along well enough, and the College has come up with a number of useful inventions for the army. Hopefully I can introduce you to her when we get there. The only worry would be if she kidnaps you in order to fob you off as her adopted son."

"It's nice to know that I can look forward to people liking me…"

"Yeah well, ideally you can stay at the College when I go. It'd be the safest place for you, especially if you can hide in her shadow."

'I thought you wanted me to come back /here/…"

// Damnit, I /did/ say that… stupid Laro, very stupid… // He growled at his inattention. 

"You're right, I did."

"Still it would probably be easier if I stayed… Then I could see you if you came back to the capital to report…" 

"Unlikely."

The cat-man didn't press his luck. Shrugging to dismiss the lapse, he framed another guiding question. "So there is the King, who is a decent paper pusher but not much else, and a militant librarian, and Lord Riquoi… Tell me about him…"

"Not much to tell really. He's been a fixture at court since the current king was a baby, a close friend of the father and a fellow who plays his cards very close to his chest." Laro ignored the amused snort.

"I think he's younger than he looks… It's hard to tell with him. Something of an epicurean, he's critical of everyone and everything… You'd probably do best to avoid him. He's… conservative."

"I know the type. And now what about the generals? There is you, of course… and who is the other?"

"Everet Ibat Kai, General of the First rank." He paused, wondering what he could impartially say about a man who all but raised him. "He's an excellent general…taught me everything I know…"  Laro didn't need to look at his friend to feel the curious stare on him. 

// What will I say to him… when I see him again… I don't deserve his friendship, failure that I am… I don't deserve to be welcomed back… How can it be like before, when I have left him to manage things so long on his own… He must be tired. Whoever they found to replace me… it must have been a struggle to get the up-to-speed in time… //

"He's probably out at the front. Someone sane has to be in charge of maintaining the Line."

"Line?"

The soldier grimaced. "The war has basically split the continent in half. On the one side of the Line, there is 'us'…"

"And on the other?"

"Wasteland."

"Surely your opponents are leaving something worth salvaging? Survivors?"

"They have no use for survivors."

"But the cities?"

"They have no use for those either."

"Maybe you had better tell me a little more about these Selwe of yours… they sound, rather peculiar."

// 'Peculiar'… funny choice of words, kitten… We too thought them simply a peculiarity once… before they started systematically wiping us off the face of the earth. //

Laro looked upwards at the tracery of unnatural lines through the starry sky, feeling old and useless. The moon was well on its way towards the horizon.

"Some other time, I think. It's late, Masa; and I'm tired."

For a moment, the deep-blue eyes caught him, darker now with the waning moonlight, the seemed to perfectly match the shades of the water. Again there was a moment of disorientation, the eyes were familiar, but the small man's altered appearance was still startling. Kuja's expression was momentarily unguarded, serious once more. "Who's winning this war, Laro?"

He couldn't help the bitter smile that forced the corners of his mouth upwards. "They are. Shall we go?"

"Yes."

They made their way back in silence. Kuja seemed to have digested his fill for the night, and was thoughtfully distant. He watched the delicate features draw into a slight frown, and wondered what the man was pondering. Sighing at the befuddling night, he found he didn't have the courage to ask. 

// It has to be the hair style… it makes him look… different… like I'm talking to a stranger… //

The cat-man thankfully was too preoccupied to notice any unusual nervousness as they crept carefully through the quiet hospital up towards their rooms. In a seeming reversal of their earlier rolls, Laro reached out and caught his companion by the arm before he could slip down the hall to his distant room. For the second time in minutes he was caught by surprise by the blue gaze but this time he didn't let it stop him. There was no resistance to his gentle tug. If anything the cat-man looked amused as he slipped closer, even lifting his hands in expectation of the fierce embrace. It was enough to briefly stoop and rest his cheek against the smooth silk of Kuja's hair. The smaller man smelled of sea salt and also the same cinnamon-like undertone that seemed to be a natural part of him. 

// Some times I think I could get lost in you… I want to get lost in you… Go someplace where I can forget about me, and life and everything… and just… //

On a whim, the soldier plucked the offending leather tie from the end of the silvery braid, freeing the thick mass with a few careful tugs so that it spilled around the narrow face in wavy disarray. Burying his hands in the shimmering cascade he accepted the silent offer of the upturned face, and claimed a chaste kiss. The lips beneath his were soft; a far cry from his own chapped and tired feeling skin. Careful of the tender scalp, he combed his fingers through the cat-man's hair, settling it into a more familiar look, and deliberately took a step backwards, bringing them both across the threshold of his room. 

// This is a bad idea… I should send him back to his room… Ing will have a coronary if he finds us again like he did this morning… //

The cares and worries suddenly seemed rather foolish and irrelevant. He /wanted/ Masa. Not for anything like what the Doctor was expecting, although if he was honest with himself he wanted that too. Mostly he just wanted to be able to curl around someone, to touch and be touched and not feel alone. Waking up with his silvery lover hadn't been bad at all. It had bordered on almost magical, until the nurses battered down the door. Laro broke free of his musing when a slender hand came up and playfully pinched his nose. He stared at the offending fingers, or tried to, going cross-eyed in the attempt. His undoubtedly silly expression made the cat-man laugh.

"Why Laro… what /has/ come over you…"

"Humor me."

"Gladly. But /how/ do you wish to be humored…?" The sweep of the arched eyebrow was surreal, adorable, and sexy all at once.

"Not like /that/. Just… sleep. Stay and sleep with me?"

"Just sleep?"

"… Masa…" His warning growl provoked another huff of laughter.

"Very well." Kuja shook his head and tried briefly to straighten his stubbornly curling hair. "It's for the best really… I have no idea how I got into this outfit, much less how to get out of it."

*************************

Who is writing a waffy fic? I am. I am!

--Lunar

http://www.roodinverse.dreamhost.com


	8. There is So Much I Want to Say

**Feather Flight: There Is So Much I Want To Say (part 8)**

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

*************************

The coast and its fresh breezes were far behind them now. Kuja couldn't help but look back as it had disappeared from sight. As strange as it felt to call the little costal village home, it has served him well for the six months he had slept and the shorter time after. The cat-man forced his mind back to the task at hand, mainly attempting to keep on top of his mount and keep the lazy beast from stopping to graze along the side of the rutted highway. The packed dirt road was dusty and uneven but the riding beasts didn't seem to care they plodded along in a way that felt exorable slow and yet seemed to cover a lot of ground. Every now and again Laro would ride next to him and point out some little animal or landmark. The silver-haired man gritted his teeth against the bone-jarring stride of his mount and looked up at the road ahead. The general was currently riding at the front speaking seriously with one of their escort.

// What was that lieutenant's name? Muller, Moler. Mahler? No wait, Mahler was a composer… well no, /here/ he's a nobody, on Gaia he was a composer… // 

He glanced behind him where the other two 'guards' were riding together. Neither of them was looking at him. It seemed his presence on the journey was to be handled simply by denying his existence. They were hardly worth the trouble of harassing so he slouched lower in his saddle and tried hard not to think of how tired he was.  

// I'm going to be beaten to a pulp by the end of this. //  

The never ending shift and bump of the ox-like animal beneath him had gone from quaint, to irritating, to painful, and into grueling after the first few hours. With sunset on the way and the promise of a remote inn and another two days in the saddle ahead of him, he could only close his eyes and pray he would still be able to walk later. Endurance was something he was bred for after all.

// This is… if I were submerged in the electrolytic solution back in the Brambala test facility… it would be just like that… except without the pauses for meals or rest, and with that cold bitch Motoko taking notes on my stamina. Wonder where she is now… Zidane probably rescued her when he grabbed the others… Precise /perfect/ Motoko… always loyal, always /efficient/… never a single unauthorized thought /ever/ crossed her brain I'll bet; a perfect servant for someone like Garland. Neither one of them was remotely… human? // The word tasted sour in his mouth as he mused over the comparison, but he couldn't think of a better one. 

Clenching his fists on the reigns of his murg, he tugged it resolutely back in line with Laro's and hissed at the way his fingers twinged in pain.  He had been over eager in remounting at the last break and had accidentally pinched the skin between two of the decorative metal disks strung on the edges of the saddle. The sharp edges had neatly and quite painfully removed a small portion of skin from his palm and two fingers. The cat-man ignored his reigns a moment hoping the animal would take the hint and stay on the road, and tried to wipe some of the dust from the bandage. Laro's careful wrappings had quickly taken care of his little mishap, but the fingers were still sore and bruised. He ran a finger along the soft cloth bindings and blinked in surprise to note that there was the beginning of a stain forming on the topmost layer. Kuja shrugged, it hadn't been a large wound, but he hadn't been babying the hand as he could have been. After a night of rest the small cut would be well sealed over. 

"How's the hand, kitten."

"Sore. Like the rest of me."

Laro slowed his animal so he could reach out and claim the damaged limb for a kiss. "Poor little hand."

"You are incorrigible." The gesture was far too sweet, almost like something out of a romance. The silvery man shook his head in disgust. He couldn't help feeling reluctant when he pulled it free of the soldier's grip.

"And you're crabby. Tomorrow will be better."

"Are we still riding?"

"Yes?"

"Then how, pray tell me, will it be better?"

The taller man laughed, his braids shaking with his mirth. "Well the first day is always the worst, isn't it? After that you get used to the riding again…"

"If you say so…"

Kuja watched his friend with tired jealously as he sat easily in the saddle. For a moment he had a crazy impulse to climb off of his own animal and curl up on the front of Laro's saddle. It would be hopelessly childish, but looked a hell of a lot more comfortable.  His tail was complainingly bitterly of the bruising it was receiving. 

// Should've pretended to be a girl, then I could ride sidesaddle… and the idiots in the hats behind me would stop giving me death-stares when Laro goes and does something out of 'Pierson's Account of Courtly Love'. All I'd need is the frock, and maybe some extra flowers. But then there are hardly any rules of etiquette to detail how a man may seduce his pet genome… frock or no… //  

One of the first treasures he had acquired from Gaia and smuggled back to Terra, the old dog-eared little volume of pictures and stories was full of details on how a young lady of means could expect to be wooed by a gentleman of excellent character. The little watercolors always had too many rosy cheeks and be-flowered bowers with benches or swings, but still the idea had captivated him. Admittedly, until now he had always rather seen himself as the dashing prince, but concessions could be allowed.

// And Laro as a damsel on a swing… is just too odd. Even for me.  Maybe an amazon… but even then… no… he's better off as is… //  

It was hard to imagine Laro being anything but what he was. The man already had a sort of mythic aura around him. Kuja kicked his tired brain promptly before it started waxing poetic on the soldier's unique sort of 'glow.' Instead he closed his eyes and tried to shut down as much as he could get away with. His friend would just think him tired, which was perfectly correct in its way. The cat-man refused to admit just how much he hurt, however. There were bruises already well established on tail and thighs, and every inch of his spine and neck had been rattled to the point of teeth-grinding pain. It was just the unfamiliarity of the motion, he assured himself. It too would be overcome. Kuja tucked his chin against his chest, relying on his hat to keep the setting sun off his face. 

"Almost there, Masa."

"Good."

He had no interest in being eloquent. That had been ridden out of him sometime shortly after lunch. The companionable brush of Laro's knee against his own was something more pleasant to consider and he tried to focus on that for the interminable approach to their evening's shelter. 

*************************

They were all certainly ready for an end to the day as their murgs plodded to a halt in the inn's small yard. Laro took the opportunity and allowed his reigns to drop, stretching his arms behind him until he felt his shoulders pop and groan. It felt like pure heaven to slip out of the saddle and take another moment to stretch his legs. The placid beast didn't even blink about being used as a prop. It simply waited until he was done and then followed a stable hand off to be bedded down for the night. The soldier waved his escort on ahead, trusting them to make the necessary arrangements before approaching the last rider still mounted. 

"Oi… Masa… you can come down now…"

The slender man blinked at him as if he was awaking from a deep trance. He smiled a little encouragement as the tired eyes finally focused on him, and then beyond to take in the shadowy bulk of the road house. "…We're… here?"

// He doesn't look good at all… wonder if they have a bath here… I wonder if I dare trying to take him into one…// Somehow the idea of communal bathing and the potential for rather awkward explanations struck him as a bad idea. Shaking his head, he focused on what was the most important. 

"Yes kitten. Here, just get your feet out of the stirrups and I'll do the rest."  There was no wonder the man was tired. Riding long distance on your first try could be something of an ordeal. Laro winced in memory of some of his own early experiences. After a few fumbling starts, he made sure the cat-man wasn't tangled on anything and got him down buy the simple expedient of hooking him around the waist and pulling him free. The usually graceful form all but crumpled into his arms. "Woah… come on, stretch a bit or you'll stiffen into a plank."

"Ugh." There were none of the usual snappy comebacks as the silvery youth moved to comply. The aristocratic features were set in unusually grim lines as he methodically stretched each leg and moved to stand on his own. 

"Better?"

"No." 

"Want me to carry you?"

"No." 

The soldier only smiled, having fully expected the answer and followed as his lover navigated the field and front door by what could only be pride alone. They would be able to collapse soon enough. The idea of curling around the warmer body and helping to smooth some of the aches away held definite -- if guilty -- appeal.

// Mind out of gutter, general. You know damn well he won't be in the mood for anything. Hell what is it about spending long days in the saddle or the trenches and then being horny as hell… Your brain is rebelling from the unpleasantness of life, that's what. //

Nodding to the innkeeper, he managed to overcome his preoccupation long enough to make his few needs known as far as food and wash water. He accepted his key with a grateful smile, and was surprised how much easier it was to put up with being bowed and scraped to when he was dead tired. The dark man turned to the stairs and followed a servant to the third level. Some of the privileges of rank were definitely better than others, and getting the best room in the inn was right at the top of his list.  

Somehow he managed to get Masa to sit --more like curl up -- in one of the oversized chairs while he busied himself with the useful chores of unpacking a change of clothes and other essentials. Only when the last of the traffic to the room had ceased, leaving behind some wash water and towels, did he permit himself to really relax.  The first day of their little adventure had succeeded with no one discovering anything amiss about his silent friend. What ever they assumed about him and his new steward, they were welcome to assume, especially if let him have some privacy.

"Masa…? Still alive? There's some food here… not to mention soap and water." He had been hoping at least the second offering would invigorate his drained companion but the best he got was a weak wave off from the man in the chair. Laro shook his head and let his friend rest for a moment, peeling off his own jacket and shirt. A quick scrub with a damp cloth pulled the worse of the sweat and grime off and left him feeling almost alive as he puttered around the room. The soldier swiped a leg off the cold roast-chicken and gnawed on it as he sorted through the bags for liniment and bandages. "Ok… come on… you'll feel better once we've stuffed you into bed."

"I know…"

Laro looked up in surprise to see that he wouldn't have to drag the cat-man out of the chair after all. He was standing of his own accord, leaning heavily against the overstuffed piece of furniture as he weakly tugged at his boots. They fell to the floor with a tired-sounding thud, and were soon followed by hat, belt robe and vest. Not able to help himself, the soldier all but gaped as he was granted a completely impromptu, if exhausted, strip show. Masa really had no body-shyness at all, revealing lightly tanned flesh for inspection by lamplight. His movements were almost like a sleepwalker's as he padded silently over to the half-full wash basin and dipped his hands.  Somehow it was all the more beautiful for its complete lack of seduction. 

Noone had /ever/ done something so unintentionally erotic for him in his entire life. The soldier grabbed blindly for his cup of watered wine, making two attempts before he could be certain he had what he wanted. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the slow movements of the washcloth on the other side of the room. The cat-man winced slightly as he shifted the damp cloth from one hand to the other, and something inside Laro snapped. Not entirely sure if he wasn't about to be clawed to death he found himself crossing the room and claiming the cloth from limp fingers before hesitantly sliding it up and sweeping it across the hard to reach portion of the delicate shoulder blades and spine. To his humbled amazement, Masa arched into the touch.

"…oh sweet heaven…" Exercising willpower he didn't know he had, the dark man repeated the stroke; this time wiping clean the other slender shoulder. He could feel the gentle tickle of the silvery head coming to rest against his chest as he dipped the cloth again and carefully worked on the limp arm. It was hard to remember to breathe, he found himself holding it in as often as not. The silence seemed part of the spell, necessary, needed. All too soon Masa would shake himself awake and return to his usual prickly defensiveness, or to his deliberate teasing playfulness, and it would be over. Having cleaned everything within easy reach, he took a spine tingling risk and took a moment to shift the bowl and towels to the table.  If he had been aroused before, there was no way to describe his happiness at the way his sleepy lover all but curled into his lap when he sat down. 

The invitation to touch, to explore, was enough to force him to close his eyes for a minute as he waged silent war with his libido. He contented himself with placing a soft kiss on the closest exposed portion of neck before reaching for the washcloth again. Masa only turned his head closer against his body in what he hoped was silent encouragement. The blue eyes were open only barely. Their color all but lost in the golden flicker of the lamp's wick. This time he cleaned more carefully, expecting, and finding, the bruises he encountered along the inner thigh and even in spots around the ankles where the gear had banged tender skin one-to-many times. 

Finally having no excuse to carry it any further, he ran the damp cloth once more over the tired forehead and forced his clumsy fingers to untie the band at the end of the silky braid. As tight and painful looking as ever, the strict style was doubtless giving the cat-man a headache. Masa's hair quickly unraveled into a mass of silky waves, all the wilder for it's enforced imprisonment.  Smiling at the softness it seemed to add to the slim man's features, he tangled his fingers in it. It was a recent but pleasant discovery for the both of them, to learn that the repetitive motion of petting the hair down after having it braided all day was a soothing activity. 

// For the best that he likes it really, because I have no idea if I could ever keep myself from doing it. // He felt the cat-man murmur his contentment. The words were more of a feeling of breath on his shoulder than a specific 'sound.' It might have qualified as a purr. Even the unusually limp tail rallied for a few brief tickling touches along the leg of his pants. 

// Surely the bandage will hold until morning… // There was a definite siren's call coming from the bed. Guilt was a force not to be reckoned with however, and he bent to his work with a sigh. There was more blood than he had expected on the wrappings. Laro frowned, figuring that his friend had been unlucky enough to cut one of the larger vessels. Hands were tricky like that. Everything had rather stuck together, and rather than risk breaking things open again, he carefully soaked the whole hand in the remains of the wash water hoping to work the cloth free without disturbing any scab that was forming. It was slow and exacting work. If nothing else it /did/ help to put what had been an almost painful pressure in his pants back to sleep. It just went to show that changing bandages was never sexy, no matter who the patient. 

"Easy now." He had almost made it through the whole procedure without Masa being aware of it but one last stubborn portion of the cloth had tugged painfully and caused the silvery man to flinch. Instead of trying to retrieve the damage hand, the cat-man hissed and held his arm out stiffly.

"Finish it."

"Sorry."

"I'm fine." Wide awake, the man held himself perfectly still as the final inch of cloth was untangled from his fingers. Laro dabbed some salve into the cuts, swearing slightly as they began to bleed a little.

"Gah. I should have been more careful."

"It's fine." 

Surprisingly, even after he had tied down the last of the new wrappings and cut the excess, Masa remained where he was. The soldier couldn't tell if his companion was too tired or too comfortable to move. Self-consciously wiping the last of the residue on his fingers off onto his pants, he reached out for a towel to drape over the slender form. It wasn't a cold night, but there was a breeze. He couldn't judge the cat-man's mood and wished dearly that he knew what to say or do next that would let them return to the quiet lassitude of before.

// Or failing that, how to get us from here to the bed without him getting angry with me. // 

The fact that he could still see Masa's silky curves every time he closed his eyes wasn't helping in the slightest. Laro cleared his throat shakily. "There's some food… if you're hungry…"

"Not really… more tired than anything…"

"Let's get to bed then…" He lifted the slender mass easily for the few steps it took to find the bed. Too tired to care, the soldier decided to let the lamp burn itself out. It was already guttering, so it wouldn't be long.  He sat on the edge of the mattress, making slow work of his own boots while watching in bemused wonder as the towel was discarded and the cat man gingerly crawled into bed. 

// It's a damn good thing that I'm too tired to do anything about that… or all my 'honorable' vows are going to go right out the window… //  

Discarding his own last vestiges of modesty, he stripped down to the skin and slid between the sheets.  There was a moment of fumbling, and another brief hiss as he accidentally pinched the tail with his knee, but soon they were laying together, his larger frame loosely spooned up against Masa's back. The cat-man had uncurled slightly, allowing himself to be embraced around the waist, his own arms resting lightly on top of the soldier's larger ones. He had stolen both of the pillows, as he was prone to do, but Laro was content to simple shuffle a little lower in the bed, resting his cheek against the silky smoothness of the pale man's shoulder. The curl threatened to put one of his arms to sleep, but at least he could pretend that his erection hadn't returned with a vengeance. For a moment he gave in and laved the nearest shoulder with slow, tasting kisses. 

"Laro…?" He caught himself with a wince.

"Sorry… I should let you sleep… long day tomorrow…"

"You…"

"Don't even say it."

He received an amused sigh for his efforts. "But how do you know what I was going to say? Goodnight, Laro."

"Goodnight." Pressing his face into the soft skin, he surprised himself by falling asleep almost immediately. A ghostly scent of cinnamon tickled his nose.

*************************

 Someone was knocking persistently at the door. Kuja groaned and stretched and was immediately sorry that he did. 

"Ow…" He vaguely heard the door latch and quiet voices whispering. The idea that there was someone else in the room jarred something loose in the back of his brain. Something important that was on the tip of his tongue…

// Shit, am I… // A hand managed to untangle itself from the sheets to smooth his hair flat while the other tried to verify the location of the end of his tail. Thankfully both seemed well behaved and when he craned his head to investigate the newcomer he was treated to a very /very/ stunned maid. Laro simply winked at him.

// Great, every illiterate in the area will soon know that I'm the great Kai's… // Several unflattering words fit the bill all too easily. // … funny how men can think of a dozen insulting ways to describe a lover, man or woman… Is that what people will call me ? Do I even care? //

He didn't. At least for now he didn't. Waiting for the girl to leave, he stretched again and peered out at the morning. The sunlight was just about at horizontal which meant that most /sane/ people would still be asleep. The cat-man sighed sadly.

// Another day-long orgy of riding. If that's what it can be called… my tail may never forgive me for this… // 

"You have about twenty minutes to get dressed before we're expected downstairs for breakfast you know…"

"Oh really…?" Kuja stretched again hoping to work some of the exhaustion from his limbs. It didn't work very well. Mostly he was just sore and bruised, neither of which was improved by the idea of movement. The movement of the cotton cloth on his skin triggered a feeling of déjà vu and he was uncertain for a moment if it was dream or memory. His eyes narrowed as he caught Laro's guilty blush.

// Memory then. Just what else was I out of it about last night…? // Deciding to play it up for full effect, he rolled on his back and stretched one last time, making sure to catch the soldier's undivided attention.

"Twenty minutes is more than enough time to finish what you started…"

"I didn't do anything."

"No? Then where are my clothes?"

"You left them by the chair." The braided man was positively flustered, shifting abruptly to deposit a bundle of folded cloth on the end of the bed. 

"Spoilsport."

"Not now, kitten."

// Ah well… it was good for a laugh. //  There was little else to distract him as he slowly sat up and began pulling on his clothes. He felt clumsy and achy and tired. 

// I would give anything to climb back in that bed and try this all again tomorrow… // In his befuddled state he didn't think twice about pushing off the mattress with both hands. 

"Ow…" Instead of up, he opted for down, curling around his hand with a hiss. 

"Oi, be careful with that. If it breaks open again it may go all day."

"…too late." Kuja poked at the spreading stain on the cloth bitterly.

"Idiot. If that gets infected…"

The silver-haired man waved off the fussing and worried the knot out of the bandage with his teeth.  Unraveling the cloth, he grimly accepted more of the minty salve before padding and wrapping it again.

// Strange… it looks just as raw as it did yesterday… // 

It took only a moment to appraise Laro's worried glare and bite his tongue. 

// It's just the travel. I'll baby it today and it'll be fine. Stupid hand. //

"What? Make yourself useful and find my brush." 

// What he doesn't know won't hurt him. //

"You ok?"

"Don't nag, Laro." Tying the band tightly around his braid and double-checking his tail, he gingerly stood up. "I feel like an old man." He smirked at his companion and executed an almost wobble-free spin. "But how do I look?"

"Gorgeous." The soldier was apparently determined not to be embarrassed again, and made quick work of tucking in his shirt and donning the jacket. His usually sharp military image was spoiled somewhat by the dust on the sleeves and back.

"Aren't you going to dust it off a little?"

"Why bother, it'll just get muddy again."

"How true."  He gave the comfortable bed one last mournful glance before gesturing that the tall man should lead the way.

*************************

// He doesn't look good at all… // 

The break for lunch had been as short as possible due to the distance they had to cover to the next stopping place. This time if they were lucky they would hit a town. Laro had teased his tired friend about the likelihood of an in-room tub with only limited success. The cat-man had looked tired when they started out. Now he just looked half-dead. Masa was sitting slouched in his saddle, eyes closed and relying on the animal to pick his way for him. Remarkably, the shaggy murg seemed to cooperate with the idea, rarely straying far from the center of the road. He reached out to gently shake a knee wanting to rouse the man from his doze.

"Masa…?"

"… huh…? Oh, you… what is it, Laro."

"You need to stop and rest? We don't /have/ to reach the town you know… there are other places."

"No… I'm fine… I promised I wouldn't slow you down."

"You're /tired/, kitten…"

"I'm /fine/. I don't want to stop." The blue eyes were fierce. Shrugging in surrender, the dark-haired man pulled his hat a little lower and sighed. After a moment of glaring, Masa's head slumped forwards once again, returning to the half-doze that he had been in all day. Laro reached over with a worried frown and captured the mount's slack reigns. It wasn't safe to have the animal completely unguarded. Anything that spooked it could send it and it's rider off into the hills before he could intervene.

"Come on, brute. You stick next to me." Looping the second set of reigns over his wrist, he goaded the beasts into a slightly brisker walk. The sooner he got his washed-out looking lover to civilization, the better he'd feel.

// Once we get to the capital he'll be able to sleep-in to even /his/ heart's content… in a real bed, with people waiting on him hand and foot… He'll be fine. //

The general tilted his head back, stretching the knots out of his neck and allowing the sun to dry his forehead. They would push forward, there wasn't much else they /could/ do.

// There /is/ a war going on after all…  Masa's right. The longer we take, the longer people have to wait. They've been waiting far too long already. //  The idea of going back to the front still made his palms sweat. Gritting his teeth, he kept his eyes on the road and tried hard not to think about things he could not change.

*************************

"What's the current setting?"

"One-hundred and twenty-three, sir." The quiet voice carried no emotion at all as the woman joined her maker in studying the contents of the glass chamber. 

Kuja would have spat at the prim genome if he had thought for a moment it would do any good. It wasn't like he had the energy to spare in any case. The pressure on his limbs and beating against his brain was unbelievable. He couldn't gage how strong the field was from within it, but it was certainly stronger than it had been in previous weeks. It felt as though his eardrums would burst and the feeling of weight in his limbs would have had him crumpled in the bottom of the cylinder if he wasn't hanging suspended in the sour tasting gel. Naked, wires taped to any number of uncomfortable places, and wondering how much more he could take before he really did rattle to pieces. He gritted his teeth and swore when he was free the first thing he would do is take Motoko's precious clipboard and pitch it into the pond before her very eyes. 

"One twenty-three? That's a two level improvement from last week. How irregular."  Garland watched his prototype with frustrated curiosity. "He shouldn't have been able to tolerate anything near this high."

"Shall I increment the field strength, Master Garland?" The silver-haired genome couldn't make out the words of his two torturers/trainers. But her gesture towards the hated dial was unmistakable.

// Torture in the name of training…? Training in the name of testing? Testing for the sake of science…? Touch that knob one more time you ice-queen, and I will rip your throat out with my teeth… //

"Set it to one-fifty." When the short scientist hesitated to comply, the bearded-man reached past her to make the adjustment himself. "Kuja can obviously withstand phase distortion more than the others. We need to get an accurate reading on how far his skill extends. After all, where the template fails, the real genome will succeed. We need to know what to expect of our little Zidane when he returns to us."

The pressure against his skull became unbearable but even with the pain that threatened to haze his vision; he could make out his old nemesis' cynical smile. Motoko, to her credit was watching the readings from the sensors with some faint hint of concern. It almost looked like she felt something.

// Maybe I… won't… kill her tomorrow… // 

Lifting his arm felt like he was attempting to lift an airship without the aid of Mist to provide buoyancy. He wonder if the popping sounds he felt were his joints cracking, or of the bone was actually breaking under the strain of moving counter to the field direction. Somehow he managed to fight the pressure and smiled faintly when he could finally rest his fingers against the cool glass. He had only just sharpened his claws that morning and they made a marvelously bone-chilling sound as they slid down the smooth surface with a crystalline shriek. There was only a moment to savor his victory –seeing Garland cringe and jump – before the old man's face twisted into a disgusted expression and another twist of the knob sent him into dizzying darkness.

"Has he… ceased?"

"No. No, he is regaining normal functional levels faster than expected. Such stubbornness was not part of the programmed model. Obviously there was a flaw during production. Get one of the drones to clean him up. You and I have work to do."

"Yes sir."

*************************

*************************

*snaps fingers* well people wanted more spice… or maybe that was just me. *wink* --Lunar


	9. Would You Accept My Love?

**Feather Flight: Would You Accept My Love? ( part 9)**

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

****************************

The piano had a pleasantly mellow tone, he decided. Left to his own devices in the empty room, Kuja had risked first a single key, and then a daring chord. Curious about the instrument's similarity to what he remembered on Gaia, he felt well rewarded. Content, he ran his hands lovingly over the polished ivory surface. 

Laro had vanished soon after breakfast. There had barely been time for a brief reminder to 'stay out of trouble' before he had been whisked away by a grim looking escort. Having little better to do, the cat-man used his free morning to explore his new home. There were ample places to get lost in within the confines of the castle if one put one's mind to it. He had peeked into several empty staterooms, and even what he assumed was a communal bath before stumbling across the empty little conservatory.

// How… civilized. //

Amused by his solitary discovery, he forgot his loneliness and settled more comfortably on the padded bench. No one would hear him if he blundered on the unfamiliar instrument. He tried a set of simple scales. It was different from playing the weak-sounding instrument in King's mansion, or from his own secondhand and battered pianoforte at the desert palace. In picking out the notes, he could almost hear the distant hustle and noise of the auction hall and the constant whisper of water and intrigue of Treno.  It had been his first real taste of Gaia's civilization, and the memory was strangely haunting. King hadn't been a friend exactly. Neither of them had ever trusted the other that far. The relationship had been both useful and educational however, the source of any number of 'firsts' for the genome. He wondered idly if the nobleman was still alive.

// Probably hip deep in some new conspiracy by now… //

With a little practice he found his fingers becoming familiar with the new keys. Kuja moved on to slowly picking out the notes to a song. He had learned several during the years he had overseen the downfall of Gaia's great kingdoms. There had been little else to do but wait, while the adopted princess had grown up.  The silver-haired man smiled grimly as he added chords when he could find them.  His palace had echoed beautifully when he played. The marble-clad halls had only enriched the sound of his perpetually out-of-tune instrument. 

// It never seemed to stay in pitch more than a week… I probably should have taken better care of it. //  

It was strange how much he missed it, he found. Music, and culture, politics and intrigue; he had enjoyed Gaia before its near destruction. Had it been an option, he might have considered staying there and never completing Garland's plan. Maybe he would have conquered, but in his own name, not for Terra's sake. Such speculation was useless. Gaia's fate had been sealed long before his birth, and so, it seemed, had his. The melody was not a happy one. Dark and introspective, it required him to work his way up and down the keyboard, guiding its flow.

"You've played before…?"

The silver-haired man turned, alarmed at the possibility of a here-to-fore silent audience. Standing by the door, a rather sallow old man offered him a wintry smile. "By all means, don't let me stop your practice. The tune was just starting to sound interesting."

"I play it badly." Embarrassed, he folded his hands into his sleeves and waited. His unwanted guest failed to take the hint. Instead of leaving, the old man moved closer.

"Pretty fellow, aren't you… I can see why they say you have 'enchanted' our wayward general." The cat-man could only stare at the unexpectedly candid comment. "Oh dear, Are you offended Mr. Kuja? Pray forgive an old man. I am accustomed to speaking my mind after all these years."

 The withered nobleman didn't look remorseful; more like a predator that had its sight on a particularly plump rabbit. Kuja felt himself rising to the challenge, lips twisting into a politely artificial smile. Two could play at this game. "I imagine that someone of your status might speak however they please, my lord. But it appears you have me at a disadvantage?"

"Dofo Riquoi, advisor to the king."

"… and the Duke of Alse."

"Alse is a burnt out shell, but yes, I am still its duke." The old man seemed to warm to him a little. "You have been well drilled for someone so new at court, Mr.Kuja."

"No sir, but I am a quick study."

"As you are with the piano?" He gestured with a finger at the silent instrument.

"Something like that, yes." The genome shrugged. "I didn't think I would be a bother to anyone here… I apologize for any trespass?"

Sharp eyes crinkled at the edges in amusement and the cat-man knew he had guessed correctly. Somehow he had wandered into a private suite during his explorations. The duke didn't seem offended however, waiving aside his apology with a flick of the manicured fingers.

"You're not what I expected, child…" Silk stiffly rustling, the old man sank into a nearby chair. He looked remarkably like a rather venerable and fragile raven. The silver-haired man got the impression that the dark-eyes didn't miss much. "From the rumors, I'd have supposed you to be at court playing with the other young fluff… but maybe you are shy of appearing without an escort to hide behind?"

"And what does one do precisely, if one is to be part of the 'fluff' at court, my lord?" He ignored the barbed implication of the question. 

"Do? Well /brag/ I suppose, Mr. Kuja." Riquoi scratched his wrinkled chin thoughtfully. "Flirt? Get drunk, play at love, gamble with your parents' money and pretend all is well with the world? You know, be merry and young."

"Perhaps I'm not by nature a 'merry' person."

"Perhaps not, but I am curious, child. What sort of person are you?"

"I am myself, sir."

"A bold answer for such a young man."

"If you say so, your grace." Kuja, perplexed by the unusual conversation, turned back to his study of the piano. 

"Do you play often?" 

"This is my first attempt."

"Your hands betray you, sir."

"Your eyes are very observant." The cat-man refused to be goaded. "I shall correct then, it is my first time with this style of instrument. The version I was taught with was a little different."

The old statesman raised an eyebrow but didn't ask further about it. "An honest answer. So you can play, /a little/… and your other skills?"

"I have been educated sir, if that is your question." He looked back and shrugged, not sure what the man wanted to hear. He chose to interpret it in the academic sense. The old man didn't seem the type to discuss more risqué things. Kuja caught the amused gleam in the duke's eye at his answer, and was tempted to reconsider.  There was something very unusual about his wily opponent. 

// Feisty… for a man his age… //

"History? Literature?"

"Some, but more particularly I am given to grasp mathematics and scientific principles, as well having a familiarity with strategy and politics."

"A little over educated for a courtesan, don't you think?"

"I am not a courtesan."

"You travel with the Kai, and share his bed…"

"Courtesans can be bought, sir. I am rather more exclusive." The cat-man smirked, knowing he had scored a point in matching bluntness for bluntness.

"Pity," the old man smiled, a bit more lively than before. "I was beginning to wonder if I could afford your company for an afternoon." The silver-haired man's eyes opened wider in disbelief. Being flirted with was not so uncommon, but the nobleman was a pleasant surprise, and deserving adversary.

// Laro called him an epicurean?  It seems he likes his beauties like he likes his a food… with touch of spice… // He couldn't help but flower a little under the attention. 

"I wouldn't think that someone of your advanced years would still have an interest in such pursuits." He discreetly observed his opponent's sour face. 

// Or maybe it's just that no one else dares to talk back to him… //

"Just because a man can no longer climb ladders through bedroom windows, does it mean he cannot appreciate a beautiful woman?"

"I am assuredly /not/ a woman, your grace… But I think I grasp your metaphor."

"You're a sharp-tongued rascal. Perhaps I'm better off without your charming company."

The silvery man dipped his head in acknowledgment of his scolding. "I meant no disrespect. If my company appeals to you, it seems only fair that I should comply… within reason."

"Loyalty to your general? Are you afraid of him?"

Kuja couldn't suppress his chuckle. "Of Laro? No, but I /am/ loyal. He deserves that much for my life, and the other kindnesses he has paid to me." 

"I could have you exiled from the capital, you know… or denounced… Or even blackmailed in order to change your loyalties… Every man has his price, Mr. Kuja" 

// … Laro would've warned me if he was a threat… wouldn't he? Oh… I see… he's toying with me… // The genome schooled his face into artful innocence.

"You would go that far to secure my affections? I'm flattered."

"Most people here would council you not to make light of me, pretty one."

"I've never been one to follow other's council." He played another chord on the delicate piano, enjoying the tone before confidently continuing again with the song. The notes had a darker sound, than he remembered from Gaia, making the melody all the more poignant. He reached the end of the passage before pausing, unwilling to provoke his guest further.

"You have a rare talent."

"I am not afraid of you." 

"I am beginning to believe it." The quiet comment made Kuja turn again, wondering what his next test would be. His elderly inquisitor simply pulled himself upright with a tired hiss. 

"Tell me, Mr. Kuja… Do you have any appointments to keep today?"

"Not until La-… the Kai is finished with his duties."

"You'll be sitting on your hands until well after dinner if you are waiting on /him/… Perhaps you had better come along with me."  The proffered hand was almost skeletally thin, but when he took it the grip was still strong.  For a worrying moment the touch reminded him of Garland. He shook his head a little to dispel the haunting feeling and caught the conversation before it could go on without him 

"It's been damn near 30 years since I've met someone I could bear having a conversation with… be damned if I let an opportunity pass me by… at my age it may be my last.

"In that case, I am entirely at your disposal, your grace."

The aging diplomat's smile was wicked. It was still predatory, but now it was from one wolf to another. They would co-conspire against the stupidities of the rest of the world. Somehow he had won admittance into a very select circle.

// How very convenient… // He rested his hand on the silk covered arm allowed himself to be escorted down the hall. 

// … Laro did say to behave… but surely a little harmless flirting won't cause any trouble. It'll do his ego some good, and make /me/ a valuable ally. //

Unable to help himself, the cat-man was already turning the problem over in his mind.  In two weeks, his one excuse for being in the capital was leaving to go to the front. On that day he had promised the general that he would return to the relative safety of the small fishing village.  Kuja wanted, /needed/ to break that promise, but to do so he needed a reason to stay. The question was, how to make himself invaluable in the short time allowed. 

// You /will/ take me with you Laro… you need me… who else will look after you in all this chaos…? //

"Do you play cards, Mr. Kuja?"

The genome yanked his attention back to the present and digested the question. "I have heard Callist is an amusing game, but I have never had the pleasure. I used to be quite good at other card games."

"Really? Were any of them entertaining?"

"Some of them were very popular."

"You'll have to show me sometime. New amusements are rare to come by these days."  Guiding the younger man by the arm, he led them into a well appointed sitting room. "Callist is normally played with partners you see… my current one is mentally deficient. At this rate Dean Finlay will bankrupt me… Surely you can see my dilemma."

"I am happy to be of assistance…"

*************************

Lines were laid down on the miniaturized terrain with brightly colored yarn chords. Beneath him lay the spread of the entire continent, sculpted from bits of wood and sand and clay.  The map was one of a kind, a strategic masterpiece. If he looked along the coast, where the blue sand of the ocean met the curve of the peninsula, he could easily pick out the tiny town of Osa-Roule.   The highway house he had stayed at three nights ago was too small to merit a label, but he could easily trace the short distance to the flag that marked their capital city. 

Several weeks' journey away lay the front. It seemed a frighteningly small distance given the scale of the map, reminding him exactly how much of the continent was no longer under their control. Behind the piece of dark blue thread marking the area of alien domination, someone had carefully removed the markers for the fallen cities.  Entire nations had been swallowed up and destroyed in the insect's unstoppable assault on the continent.   Paralleling the blue thread was one a second line, done in red; the last clear separation between the land still protected by active army. He counted the small bronze tokens, doing mental calculations on the men and artillery they represented.  Compared to the force currently on the ground against them, it didn't seem such an uneven fight. 

// But the bugs never show their full numbers until they're ready to move…. Then they just sweep in out of nowhere… //

It wasn't /nowhere/. He of all people knew perfectly well how the invaders had a variety of tactics. They could range from the slow but damn-near indestructible shock-troops which crawled on land, to the massive worm like burrowers which had been documented destroying entire villages, to the highly mobile flying attack units.  Laro looked over the colored chips, knowing the information in front of him was already over a day old.  He wouldn't know how things /really/ stood until he could get out to see for himself.

The map offered him /some/ hope however.  His mentor had the armies in a good position around the mountain foothills.  The shallow bedrock protected them from any sub-surface attack while the uneven terrain made it hard for the flying insects to land in force. If he closed his eyes, he could almost see the dusty camps full of hard-eyed veterans. They would fight tirelessly with the mountains at their back, holding their own, trying to take a little back in places the aliens didn't or couldn't access easily.

All three of the Towers in the mountain range had red markers pressed into them.  The two monoliths closest to the capital were also marked, those with yellow.  Five towers down, and he couldn't take credit for any of them. Laro smiled in amusement.

// Then again, the closest two were taken down in dad's time… so nobody really counts them any more… the Selwe haven't been able to get close enough to repair them ever since, and they don't seem to have the resources to send new ones. //

The three new conquests, each located at a key position along the entire span of the mountain chain, were all in positions where the aliens were at disadvantage.  The Selwe disliked certain extreme environments, oceans and snow-bound areas seemed their two least favorite.  Philosophers speculated that in a worse case scenario, the remaining human population could flee onto the sea and be spared. The general didn't see that as much of an option.

He frowned at the complex map, marking the orderly pattern of slim black towers all along the continent. They weren't close together by any stretch, and their spacing grew irregular along the coasts. The dark man often wondered how they blanketed the ocean, or if they did at all. There were rumors of similar monoliths on the other continents, but if there were no similar structures over the water, it was reasonable to believe that there were still places where the Net was stretched to the breaking point.  

Pinned to the wall were diagrams, the most accurate pictures assembled of the network of lines crisscrossing the heavens.  Each node of the complex weave was positioned over a Tower.  They were ranked on the map by the number of lines they connected. The more connections the monolith made, the more important it seemed, and the heavier it was guarded.  All of general Ibat's conquests were ranked fairly low, but taken as a set they had effectively weakened the region.  The Selwe would be forced to reroute energy through the other towers around the sizable gap. Comparing the diorama on the table with the maps on the wall, he made a pleased noise to himself.  Two of the three Towers now in striking distance were major hubs. Each sported more than seven threads branching off to other edges of the network.  Mentally he imagined shutting both monoliths down and how it would adjust the shape of the Net. To his surprise he saw that disabling even one of the two would open up a clean patch of sky over the front-line.  

// … We could do it… we could punch through… a genuine hole in the Net. // 

General Ibat had to have seen it too. The older man's strategy probably had that very objective in mind.

// Taking out a Tower that well guarded is close to suicide. //

Laro grinned in amusement. That particular monolith had already fallen once. He and his ranking officers had stood at its very top for one long sweet moment before destroying as much of it as possible and turning tail in retreat. 

// … What the hell… He probably figures I was crazy enough to do it once, and the position of the field wasn't nearly as good. I bet I can take it back a second time. And if Ibat swings a little west and can take out one more… //  

In his mind's eye, the gap in the Net only grew wider.  It was insanity, but it was /possible/ more so than it had ever been before. Luck, or maybe just pure chance had pushed an opportunity their direction. He would be damned if they didn't make the most of it.

// Clear sky… //  He stuffed his hands in his pockets and bounced on his heels to release some nervous energy. // I could see clear sky again in as soon as four months, if we push… if nothing bad happens… //

The Kai frowned at his childish pleasure. // And /then/ what… hmmm?  The Selwe will be pissed as hell… probably throw everything they have at us… They won't let that tower stay down for long… We need a /plan/… //

He wasn't keen on the idea of sitting around the monolith waiting to be overrun by the enemy.  Laro was fresh out of new ideas. Luckily, he already knew what he would do about it.  He dumped his stack of notes on a long-suffering attendant and left the stuffy hall.  Mid-afternoon sunlight caught him by surprise, making him wince as he crossed the courtyard.  Stomach grumbling, he was reminded that he had skipped lunch and made a mental note to find something to eat before set himself up for fasting until dinner. 

There was one stop the general had to make before seeking his own comforts.  He needed a new idea.  Around the capital there was only one place a man could go where such things were ready commodities.

// Back to school… again… //  

Apparently psychic, the dean was just pouring a second drink as he let himself into her office.

*************************

"Why if it isn't the 'cripple'…"

"Ha, ha… Crazy witch, get back on your broom."

"Your tongue hasn't dulled at all, boy… how about the rest of you? Is your aim still as true?"

"We will soon find out, won't we?" The general unbuttoned the formal over-coat and settled uninvited into a chair.  His intrusion had never been offensive before, and it was hard to believe the woman would deny him now. "I need a miracle, Carris. Can you provide?"

The gray haired scientist placed his drink on a coaster before settling behind her desk with a 'humph'.  "It seems like you've already had a 'miracle'…" She made a vague gesture to encompass his general vicinity. "Best not to be greedy, I think."

"I didn't have anything to do with getting better. It just sort of happened."

"I know. I got a letter from Ing. We /were/ classmates after all… He had some crazy ideas about that new… /friend/ of yours… the one with the 'stage name'… What roll did he play, precisely?"

Laro kept his expression blank. "I don't pretend to know what Ing was talking about…"

"… Really Laro… with a name like that… Normal boys do not go around claiming to be minor divinities on a regular basis."  She fumbled in her desk for a cigar, and lit it off a nearby lamp. "Highly suspicious all the way around, if you ask me… I mean, most of the idiots at court are practically illiterate, but surely /you/ remember your religious education…"

"No one believes that nonsense anymore, old woman. It's probably just coincidence."

The hard-faced scholar snorted in disbelief. "We'll see soon enough, I suppose." She leaned back in her chair. "Tell me one thing…"

"What?"

"I couldn't give a crap about his alias, he could be a hardened con-man for all I care… but how far can he be trusted?"  The dean tapped her ash into a convenient dish. "Or should I be asking someone with an impartial opinion?"

The dark man caught the non-subtle warning and chose his words carefully. "He knows more than he tells people. But that's not a crime, last I checked." He shrugged. "I trust him with my life. He's had ample opportunity to betray me and he hasn't yet."

"He may just be waiting for a good setup…"

"Masa is secretive, but he's not dangerous…" He knew it was useless to try to argue the point from his views alone. "I wouldn't mind however, if you checked him out for yourself. He mentioned to me that he was very interested in your school… he may open up to you more than he has to Ing or me…"

"The good doctor's letter spoke of amnesia."

"Maybe at the beginning… but not anymore."

"… and you still trust him? Are you certain it's not just hormones?"

"Please give me /some/ credit for good sense."

"You have to admit, boy… You're not exactly the most cool-headed person we know… and from the look of him… I worry that you are dazzled by the packaging…"

"I am aware of my particular weak-points, thank you Madam Finlay." The soldier grinned and shook his head. "I also trust you to give the man a fair chance… he's already going to be putting up with all kinds of trouble at court because of his attachment to me."

"You could have been a little more discrete."

"I /tried/… You people didn't exactly give me much breathing space.  Besides… he can be… stubborn about being left behind."

"I like him already." The dean rolled up her sleeves. "Not that it matters anyway… the bugs are practically knocking down our door… you saw the Map Room?"

"Yes, that's why I came over."

"Because you need another 'miracle'… What precisely did you have in mind…?"

// Good question… //

Laro closed his eyes, once again envisioning the battlefield and the positions of the Towers.  He pondered the already disabled trio of monoliths in the mountains, and the two laying in wait for him on the plains to the west. The image of  the clear night sky overhead tickled the back of his brain, an idea that wouldn't leave him be. It was a system, a vast interlinked series of control points through which energy and information was transmitted.

// Interconnected… All the Towers are connected… //

"I want a way to use one Tower as a weapon against the others." He stopped himself, shocked by how coherent his pipe-dream sounded when pushed out into the open. His host let out her breath in a gust and leaned forward to refill both their glasses.

"A bit of a tall order, don't you think?"

"You've got a whole university full of people who are too damn smart for their own good… You have the load-stones for at least four out of the five Towers in our control within easy reach… you just have to… you know…" The general waived his hands in a frustrated manner.

"Just figure it out so you can smash it, hmmm?"

"Pretty much, yes. Can you do it?"  He saw the older woman's eyes flash, obviously rising to the blatant challenge. "It would beat the hell out of wasting your student's talents on building a 'better armored cannon.'"

"Yes, yes it would…"  Dean Finlay tilted back again, puffing her cigar. "… We've used the load-stones before… one is the power-source for the mobile cannon, you know… the second is part of the setup for eavesdropping on their communications traffic…but actually leaving the crystal in the Tower and trying to /transmit/ with it? No one's ever had the balls to suggest something that insane. What if it backfires?"  She was talking more to herself than to him.

"God Laro, it's good to have you back… I don't know if it's that you're an idiot savant, or if you really are a genius, but things just weren't the same with you gone."

"Careful, Carris. That was almost a compliment."

The woman shook her head in disbelief. "I must be getting senile, doing a thing like that…" She stood, ushering him firmly to the door. "Get out. I have work to do. If I'm going to deliver you anything worth mentioning before you leave, I'd better get the students to haul some serious ass."

"Just so long as it's ready before we get plowed under, I'm in no particular rush."

"We'll take care of it. Just stall them long enough for us to throw it together." The door was firmly closed in his face.

// Well… that was productive… //

Laro's stomach emitted an empty rumble. He had missed his last chance at lunch.

*************************

*************************

Note: Right. So I just finished replaying ff9 in a vague hope that I'd get things straight in my head. As a result I'll be going back through the past chapters and editing for consistency. It's a work in progress, so shoot me.  I'll leave Kuja as a cat boy because hell, it'll make a funny plot device later.

Zidane: Monkey!

Laro: cat!

Zidane: Monkey! And I should know!

Laro: *pout*  


	10. Something Inside You Seems to Glow

**Feather Flight:**** **Something Inside You Seems to Glow (part 10)********

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

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The droning began more as a feeling then a sound. A faint vibration in the bones of the watchmen alerted them to the thread before their enemy cleared the heights.  The rocky canyons were riddled with thousands of convenient gorges and hide-aways. Moving with hushed energy, the brigade collapsed dusty tents, dispatched messengers, and sank into position.  Their mobile cannon whined feebly as it quickly charged up beneath its protective swath of canvas and camouflage. Scuffed and beaten with hard use, the weapon was due for retirement as soon as a replacement arrived; if its replacement arrived.  With Stingers in the air, any hope of a supply ship making it through the passes was delayed for another day.  

The sound grew deeper as the swarm approached, and a low whistle alerted the commander that the insects were in sight. Stubbing out his cigarette, the grizzled old man glared thoughtfully at the ridgeline where a small cloud of black was sweeping closer at a ground eating pace. Each set of hard wings was moving fast enough to blur the outlines and filled the air with the sound of propellers. With their translucent wings, Stingers always seemed to be floating, but always in an erratic way. It reminded him of a drunkard staggering from one pub to the next. Seeming to jerk and bounce off of each other, the canyon walls, and even the air itself, they flew in chaotic patterns. They way they moved would have driven any reasoning creature insane. 

Luckily for them, Stingers weren't at any risk of having an original thought. Their heads were barely large enough to carry lower-brain functionality, much less anything more useful. Ibat patted his artillery officer to get the man's attention, and then pointed at his target.  Too well trained to do more than blink in surprise, the dusty man did as he was told, carefully turning the gun on its pivot and realigning the sites. The Kai took out a pair of binoculars, careful to make sure their lenses didn't catch the light, and took a rough count of their enemy.  The flying creatures were actually quite sleek and graceful when compared to the more bulky ground-troops.  It was a pity that they weren't half as fragile as they appeared. Generally black in appearance, their carapaces had an almost oily sheen to them in the morning light. They might as well have been made of gears incased in steel for all that they seemed 'alive.' There was no mistaking the creatures were 'grown' and not made. He had smashed nests enough to know first hand what the grub stage looked like. 

// … and what they /smell/ like… //  The general leaned his head from one side to the other, stretching stiff neck muscles.  His breakfast would have to wait. The sooner they cleared out whatever nest was producing the small but constant supply of the flying menaces, the sooner the supply ships could start regular deliveries again; including eggs and other such rare rations.  He was willing to forgo a leisurely meal today if it meant he could have a proper one tomorrow.

// … and bacon…. And a damn cannon that doesn't have sand in all its innards so it malfunctions half the damn time… //

Shadows skittered crazily beneath the oncoming squadron of Selwe, looking just as erratic as the insects flying up above. His gunner tensed, marking the position of the dark blur based on rocks beneath them. The first of the gleaming bugs passed over the lip of the valley, signaling that it was time for the dance to begin. 

"Do it."

The man really didn't need the order to know his work. The cannon's whine became a mechanical roar as a broad band of light poured from the tip and cut directly into the rock wall of the cliff side. The Stingers, predictably, sensed the deadly blast and dove lower, their tired wing-beats growing erratic as they sought to land on the smooth rock below.  The flying insects were highly mobile, but their stamina was predictably short. It took a lot of energy to keep them airborne. They needed to rest, and when on the ground they were, if not vulnerable, then at least easier to hit. Getting them to land was easy. The trick was keeping them down.

A swath of shattered rock cascaded down the wall of the ravine bouncing and fragmenting into a granite shower. The small boulders and dust formed a clattering cloud. Several of the rocks found their marks, shattering wings and limbs as they fell through the small swarm. Confused by the debris, the Selwe's flight became more erratic, putting them at greater risk for injury.  Soon the entire scouting party was on the ground, fluttering damaged wings and trying to clean the dust from their multifaceted eyes. 

Ibat's attack force moved as if they were one with the dusty brown scenery, closing in and surrounding their disoriented enemy.  Bullets were depressingly ineffective against the hard shelled creatures, and the beam-cannon was too slow and costly. The tired veterans stuck with older, more reliable methods to defeat their enemies. Swords easily separated the sharp-edged pincers from the body along the vulnerable joints. Spears pierced the thin chinks in the armor of the thorax and head. 

Kicking away a still twitching corpse, the general settled himself on a sunny boulder and lit another cigarette. "Good enough… but where did they come from, I wonder. They don't have the brains to go foraging for themselves… there has to be someone steering them."

"We'll start scouting for the nest, sir?"

"Hmm… the sooner we stamp it out, the sooner we can get back on a regular schedule."

"Yes sir!"

The older man smiled to himself as his troops scattered. "Might as well give the boy a 'welcome back' present… a clean supply line ought to do nicely."

****************************

"You're doing it wrong, you know."  The student looked up from his chalkboard with a nervous jump. Kuja hid his smirk behind a hand, feigning a yawn.  The boy scribbling equations on the wall was still staring, obviously trying to puzzle out who he was. 

// He knows I can't be faculty… which means he'll either assume I'm a courtier… or… //

"Are you a student?"

// …figures. //

"Not quite."  He smiled and made his way across the empty class room. "Anyway, your calculation is still off." 

"I've worked on this for days! Who are you to tell me I'm wrong…"

"Days, hmmm? Maybe you should take a break and sleep a little…" The cat-man leaned closer and sniffed dramatically. "… and a bath. You've made some rather rudimentary errors in your subtraction. Your answer will be invalid."

"Show me."  Grumpy, the younger man held out his fragment of chalk in challenge. An offer the genome was more than happy to accept. Feeling perfectly at home, despite the unusual surroundings he contemplated the curving numbers, making guesses about the symbols he didn't know. 

"Well, first of all, seven minus five is not three…" He kept his face impassive as his companion flinched. Wiping the error away and replacing it, he continued rechecking the work. "And here… two twelves are…?"

"…twenty-four…" 

"…exactly…" He smudged out another error and replaced it with the new values. "So we take the log of the new number, and apply the constant for gravity… I assume you are no carrying the extra digits for brevity's sake? Always carry three-places in your final calculations." The student at his side had grown quieter as he worked. "… and now we see that the real outcome is actually a factor of ten larger than it was before."

"But that won't do, we don't have any fuels that can provide that much thrust…"

Kuja turned to his unwilling pupil with a smile. "Then it's a good thing you found that out on paper before trying it in reality. Far less embarrassing, don't you think?"

"…Yes, I suppose so…" The youth pulled his cap off and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Who /are/ you… how can you do calculus so easily?"

"Perhaps I've just been doing it for longer than you." He handed the chalk back with a friendly shrug. "My name is Kuja. I'm here for an appointment with the school's Dean… but she doesn't seem to have remembered me."

"She has a nack for getting side-tracked. Yes…" The young scholar settled his hat back on his head with a careless gesture and sat on the nearest desk. "Say, if you're just waiting… would you be interested in seeing another equation? A friend of mine is chewing away at a proof and is absolutely stumped…"

"If he's nearby… I'd be interested."

"Very close, and we'll have one of the freshmen keep an eye out for the old hag for you so you don't miss her…" 

// I seem to be making a habit of being abandoned by my companions and making new friends… or at least new adversaries… //  He had been looking forward to the meeting with the senior scientist of the castle. Laro had even promised to return in time for dinner, so he had started off with high expectations for the day. After waiting for a lonely half-an-hour in the courtyard however, the silver-haired man had reevaluated his hopes. 

// This seems an amusing distraction, anyway… //  Kuja gamely followed the boy in the brown jacket out of one empty class room, across the courtyard, and into a nearly identical room. This time there were three frazzled looking students all scribbling over each other in an attempt to make sense of an equation. Allowing his guide to race ahead and do the introductions, he paused to examine some of the clutter. There were several carefully cut pieces of what he thought at first were obsidian. The edges were too clean for the fragile crystal however, and when he tilted it into the light, he saw both a fibrous grain, and an unusual purple overtone to the hard tile. 

// Organic then…? Artificially cut into a portable segment? But to what purpose? //

"Mr. Kuja, sir?"

He noted that one side was considerably smoother and shinier than the other. He wondered how it would respond to being struck by a hammer. Maybe, like the organic metals of Terra, it would simply flex instead of breaking.

"Mr.Kuja…?"

"What /is/ this…?  It's almost like a ceramic… but with these grains…"

"That?" The younger man blinked. "It's a shell fragment, you can have it if you want, we have dozens… they're just to run tests on… but come, I want to introduce you around… they're really keen to see if you can spot something useful…"

Bemused, the cat-man shook hands with the small group and settled himself comfortably on a desk to examine their work. The progressive theory they were anxiously trying to prove was sadly familiar.

"It's a good proof… but it's hardly groundbreaking work, I think… someone already solved it."

"They did?"

"When!"

"That can't be, we're the only ones who have ever made it this far!"

Kuja blinked, and reconsidered his words. He had all the benefits of an advanced civilization during his education and training. They were trying to reach Terra's level of technical mastery with far much less in the way of raw talent. An entire world's scientific community trapped within the confines of one sprawling college. The idea was dizzying. "… Ah, my mistake… I think I was remembering something /similar/ to this…"  

They were relieved enough that they let it slide, excitedly talking in turns about their work over the past months. 

// There must be other colleges still surviving… not all the large cities have been wiped out… but still, if this is the largest… //  He looked at the energetic students, and pondered how many of their 'projects' would directly funnel into the war effort. Given that they were trying to unravel a heat-transfer theory, this chore in particular would be /very/ useful.  The genome could name five potentially deadly applications of the equation on the board without even trying. That was of course, if they could get it to balance correctly.

// Right now they're on their way to blowing themselves to kingdom-come… // He shook his head.

"First thing… did anyone notice that you forgot to carry the minus-sign down from row three?" Four mortified sets of eyes turned to the board. Two of the students slapped the third boy with their hats. 

"Idiot!"

"I checked that! I swear!"  Watching their frantic corrections, Kuja leaned back on his hands and did his best to remember how the equation was supposed to look.  He was surprised how much he could recall. It wasn't that he had ever personally applied much, but his schooling had been comprehensive. Garland had not only wanted to prepare him for Gaia, after all, but test him, his understanding, his adaptability, and his ability to retain and report back what he was exposed to.  It felt strange to be doing something with the information. Almost as strange as it had felt to sit down and actually puzzle out the way of forming the black mages from mist, burlap, wool and straw.  

// I shouldn't have used mist… that was the risk factor… if they had been clockwork, they wouldn't have had souls, or needed them… and so they would have never 'woken up'… // 

The idea of the black mages troubled him, a nagging faint sort of guilt that he couldn't completely ignore.  Irony wasn't something he liked to acknowledge but he had to just the same. Everything that they had been to him was nothing less than a subconscious echo of what he had been to Garland.  It made him slightly ill to think about it.  Somehow in their own individual time, in their own individual way, he and the crazy old man had rationalized their actions in exactly the same way.  

// Give them a soul to give them power… Give them a soul because it is the simplest way of getting the job done… don't worry about durability, don't worry about longevity… they're just tools… what do they matter? When I tired of them I would just destroy the lot and make something better… I wonder… that it never occurred to me that he wouldn't reason in exactly the same way… we were all expendable after all… why should I have been the exception… //

He looked up to see that the group was once again stuck, but the formula looked better. Not willing to give the correct answer just yet, he cleared his throat to grab their attention. "Now… think a moment…honestly… the left side… what are the units?"

"… units…?"

They stared at the board and then at each other. "… It's a measurement of heat…?"

"Very good. Now, what are the units on the right side?"

"Not heat?" 

"Exactly. Now… how do we take pressure… which is what you /do/ have… and turn it into  heat?"

"… multiply by the temperature constant of the material…"

"Well then?" 

It was almost as much fun as beating the old Duke at cards while eating fresh cherries. Almost. His legs were tired from perching on the hard wood for so long, and the pressure wasn't making his hand feel any better either. He inspected the bandages while his protégées worked.  The wrappings were far more discrete than before; an almost decorative layer of dark satin hid the thin cotton padding of the bandage from view. His soldier had been too tired during the last few nights to even notice the stubborn wound. 

They had fallen into a depressing pattern of only really seeing one another at breakfast. As nice as it was to meet new people, the cat-man was beginning to think that by the time he and Laro were able to sit and talk as they used to, the man would be walking out the door for good. He reached out for the fragment of shell again, turning it over in his hands and wondering at the sort of beast that could grow such a thick piece of armor. 

// … 'and all the monstrous beasts that sleepeth beneath the seas'…? It's like no clam /I've/ ever seen… //

He smiled to himself. Given that all of his experiences on Gaia and Terra were rather useless now, it shouldn't have surprised him that he had found a new puzzle. The genome looked up at the sound of a wild 'whoop' of joy. His students had gone on without him paying attention, and were now standing back to consider their work. He did the same, leaning over to follow the last few lines of simplification.  

"Well now… that looks /much/ better…" Kuja hopped down from his seat to stretch. 

"See? All you needed was a fresh pair of eyes. Now you can get on with actually applying it and do all sorts of interesting things."

"Indeed, Mr. Kuja."  

The voice, new and rather unexpected caused them all to turn around in alarm. Standing in the doorway was a rather broad-shouldered woman smoking a cigar. The genome blinked as he made the connection. Her hair was almost in competition with his for its lack of color. In the Dean's case, it was probably the result of age rather than genetics.

"Dean Finlay, I presume?"

"Hmmm…"  The woman moved to investigate the results of her student's efforts, a puff of smoke betrayed her excitement. "Copy that down, and have someone check it."

"Yes, sir." 

"As for you…" Her eyes were actually quite pleasant when taken out of context of her hard facial features. Kuja forced his mind back on the task at hand. The youthful exuberance around him was only making him tired. He felt ill qualified for another verbal sparring match. Perhaps he could fall back on baffling her with prose. The woman's next comment was surprisingly charitable. "I hope waiting hasn't been too… dull." 

"I managed to make myself useful."

"From what I've heard, you've been doing that quite often since your arrival… It's not just any courtesan that can get the 'Walking Skeleton' to eat out of their hand in less than a day."

The cat-man feigned ignorance of the nick-name. It was obvious she was referring to the elderly duke, but he didn't see a need yet to take her into his confidence. He couldn't read her well enough to determine if she was pleased or annoyed at his interaction with her students. 

He smiled briefly. "And I will tell you what I have told everyone. I am no courtesan."

"Yes, well… that's all very well and good for you to /say/ Mr.Kuja… but that leaves us with a most perplexing question of what to /do/ with you…"  She led him down several confusingly similar hallways and into a comfortable looking office. 

"I'm afraid I have never been someone easy to categorize."

"Dr. Ing mentioned something of that too…"  The older woman noted his surprise. "He was a classmate of mine. There is little he knows that I don't. Unfortunately his letter concerning /you/ was… remarkably skimpy. An oversight I have instructed him to rectify in his next note."

"I doubt he would have much of interest to say in any case…" There was nothing Kuja could do but hope his previous care-taker would be discrete about what he shared with his peers. It wasn't like he could stop the man if the doctor chose to reveal those few secrets in his possession. 

"Well there /is/ something of interest to me… if you would oblige me?"

// … and so the interrogation begins again… // The genome sat down without being invited to. Something about the stuffy, cigar odor-ed air to the room was making him dizzy.

"… By all means." 

"… Your family name is 'kuja,' and your personal name is 'masa'…? I found that most peculiar."

// … damn Laro and his poetic sensibilities… //

"Ah. /That/."

"Yes, rather."

"Blame Laro, I'm afraid." He sat back with a sigh deciding he wasn't in the mood to put on a show of strength, and sure that it wouldn't be well received anyway. "Ing may have told you that I am something of an anomaly… a bit of flotsam washed ashore…"

"He mentioned that you were a foundling, yes."

"What he might have overlooked was that I was unconscious for some time, after my rescue… In that time, Laro took it upon himself to rename me… 'Masa' was well and firmly stuck before I woke, and it has gotten so that even I have grown used to it."

"… so Kuja…?"

"Is my real name."

"Your first name, or your last?"

"… It is the only name I have ever had."

"How remarkable." She chuckled in amusement. "Pure coincidence?"

"Laro seemed suitably startled when he found out."

"I'll bet." Fumbling through her desk, she produced a wedge of cheese, a half eaten smoked sausage, and a paper box of what could only be crackers. "I'm starving and you're looking a little gray. How about we have a snack… and then maybe you can tell me just how it is you know so much about converting mass to energy."

The peasant fare actually looked tempting. The feeling of hunger surprised him. He turned his head slightly to catch his reflection in the dusty mirror. It wasn't just that the room was shadowy. His face looked washed out and exhausted.

// … I had a good night's sleep… and I remembered to eat breakfast… /and/ made an attempt at lunch… so why can't I manage to go a whole day without feeling like I've been wrung out and left to hang. //  

The sausage had a spicy taste, and surprisingly, eating made him feel a little better. He helped himself to a slice of cheese. 

"What do you want to know?"

****************************

****************************

blah blah blah, plot… I put it down somewhere… 

-Lunar

http://www.roodinverse.dreamhost.com/


	11. The First Blush of New Beginnings

**Feather Flight: The First Blush of New Beginnings (part 11)**

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

*********************************************************************************************************************************************************

It wasn't the first time in the past week that he had returned to his chambers well after his friend had fallen asleep. Laro paused in the doorway admiring the way that moonlight was caught in the toss of the sleeping man's hair. 

He shoved his hands in his pockets to remove any possibility of reaching out to touch him. Masa didn't need him to be interrupting his rest any more than he had to. With a sigh, the soldier moved quietly into his small dressing room to strip off his clothes and wash his face. The day had been long and if possible, even more tedious than the previous one. All he really wanted to do was lay down a while, cuddle with his wily partner, and talk about unimportant things, or nothing at all. He just couldn't seem to ever finish with work until well after most sane people had retired. It didn't strike him as quite fair that he was rumored to have the affections of the most beautiful person at court, and then to realize that he had probably spent the /less/ time with the silver-haired man in the past several days than just about anyone else. 

// What's the use… not like I have any good news to share with him anyway. //  

He knew that the cat-man had been making friends at court. He would have been a fool to leave his companion completely unprotected and supervised during the day, but the reports of just how easily the slim scholar had captured the hearts of the council were enough to make him laugh. Any of Masa's stories from the past week would be infinitely more amusing then the news he could share about armies and provisions. Feathers were already becoming the fashion in several of the younger courtier's hair. Folding back the covers, careful not to disturb the other occupant of the bed, he settled on the mattress. 

// I… no, it's foolish to think that he'd wait up /this/ late…  hell in a few hours it'll be dawn again… and away I'll go… // He made a face.

// Maybe I'll just sleep in for a change… have a real breakfast… /talk/ to someone who doesn't call me 'sir' for five minutes… //

Something sharp jabbed him in the ribs as he sank into the bed. His investigations resulted in a small leather-bound book with a ribbon marking the page. Curious, he leaned into the moonlight to take a closer look. It was obviously a gift. Laro's eyebrow went up in amusement as he read the little inscription, both at the message "Something to enliven your lonely evenings," and at the familiar signature. 

// … Am I going to have to have a /talk/ with that old man? What else has he been showering on my kitten while my back is turned… and how many others are doing the same? //

Making a mental note to keep better tabs on just who was lavishing attention on his supposed 'concubine' while he worked, Laro decided he /would/ take the morning off. Somehow he wondered if there wasn't some large /trove/ of gifts piling up somewhere discretely out of sight. Maybe he would check under the bed. The thought almost made him chuckle out loud. He flipped the first few pages, recognizing the book as a popular trilogy of romantic plays. His friend was apparently making good progress on the dramas. The bookmark was placed well after the ending of "A Woman Named Sparrow," and just at the end of the first act of its sequel. The soldier flipped back a few pages, reminding himself what the play was about. "Desire and Her Family" had never been one of his favorites, but he had to admit the fight scenes were plentiful and well planned. Smiling, he carefully put the book on the nightstand before settling the blankets again.

// … he tried to wait up for me after all… stubborn little thing… //

On impulse he changed his mind about sprawling out alone on his edge of the wide bed. Reaching over hesitantly, he scooped Masa into his arms, curling around him until the delicate head was pillowed on his arm.  The movement was more than enough to wake the cat-man up. Laro smiled down at his sleepy partner before kissing his forehead apologetically. "Go back to sleep… I'm about to do the same."

"… At least you came to bed properly this time… Last night you deliberately snubbed me…"

"I figured waking you up four nights in a row just so I could have something to hang onto while I dozed was rather selfish…"

"… and yet you're waking me now?" The expressive lips twitched into a sardonic smile. "… boor."

"… I missed you." Laro shifted until his head was comfortably on the pillow, his face buried in the silky tangle of his partner's hair.

"You can wake me any time you know… I was just teasing…" It was Kuja's turn to shift, wriggling loose of the soldier's grip enough to turn around and thread his arms around the larger torso. "… I wish you would, actually… since you seldom stay for breakfast either… I'm beginning to feel like I'm sharing a room with a phantom."

"I was thinking we could have breakfast tomorrow… if you don't have plans…"

"Scandalous… sure the war won't suddenly explode if you aren't planning for it every waking hour?"

"… well to be honest I was planning to sleep in a little too… so it would be a few 'sleeping hours' as well…"

"You lazy oglop! Positively shameful." Masa's teasing laugh turned a little frantic as the soldier began to tickle him in revenge. "M-mercy! Mercy, sir knight. You have me at a disadvantage…"

"Which disadvantage is that…?" The cat-man batted at his face to dispel the comic leer.

"The disadvantage where I am still groggy from being newly awakened from sleep while you are still full of the vigor of the day…"

"… The 'vigor' of far too many cups of coffee, you mean…"

"Well yes, that too…"

It was a nice feeling, to have the slender hands playfully catch and caress his face. Curious fingertips traced the length of the scar, marveling as his kitten had before, at how the blow had spared his eye. The feeling wasn't unpleasant exactly, but it did tickle slightly. There wasn't much sensation left in the thick tissue but he smiled anyway, letting his ward do as he pleased. The hands eventually finished their exploration of his face, resting gently on either cheek as if about to pull him down for a kiss. Leaning down a little into the soft touch, he turned to gently kiss both palms. 

"… you're still binding your hand?"

He frowned surprised at the feel of the cool silk beneath his lips, and at his own inattention that he had not noticed it before now. Masa drew the hand back as if burned, fisting it into the loose material of his sleep-shirt. "I… It's just to keep it clean… while I sleep… it's mostly healed."

Laro couldn't help but feel guilty. He should have been paying more attention, to the injury, to his companion in general. One way or another he would make the time to be with Masa more often. 

// Gods know there isn't much time left… // 

The war was inescapable but there was no reason it couldn't wait until morning. Laro pushed his worries away for a moment, content to focus on those within his power to control. He caught smaller man's hand in his own, running an apologetic thumb along the soft fabric of the bandage.

"Well I'm glad there was no permanent harm anyway…" The soldier grinned in the dark room. "… and  I see that you've already wound Riquoi around your dainty fingers… what else has he been wooing you with while I've been away…?"

"… /wooing/?" Masa snorted. "I wouldn't know anything about that. I had mentioned the other day that I was fond of plays, that's all… He was thoughtful enough to find me a few."

"I see… hmmm." The dark man rolled onto his back, making vaguely thoughtful noises.

"What…?"

"…hmmm…"

"What?!"

"… I don't know…" He fought hard to keep a straight face despite the cat-man's growing exasperation.

Kuja propped himself on the larger man's chest, glaring. "… and what, pray tell me, is so /thought provoking/ now…?"

"I'm just thinking…"

"Don't strain yourself."

"Ha. Ha. I was just thinking… that if everyone is going to start buying you luxurious love tokens… I'll have to do something suitably extravagant to keep up."

The pale scholar blinked. "You don't have to buy me things."

"Maybe I want to."

"That's silly."

"That's what being in love is all about. Isn't it?" Laro raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"… I wouldn't know anything about that." 

A boney elbow dug painfully into his chest as Kuja rolled over again, curling up on his side of the mattress. The soldier sighed in defeat. "… I was only teasing, Masa."

"Do as you like… I exist by your leave, after all."

"Oh now /that's/ hardly fair."

"… what do you want me to say then…?"

Snuggling closer, he dared to wrap his arms around the slight frame again. He tucked his face in the dip at the nape of the cat-man's neck, pressing as close as he could without pinching his partner's tail. It tickled his shins beneath the sheets. "I don't want to argue with you, kitten."

"… then don't."

"Why won't you let me buy you things…? Is it what the others will say?" Unable to keep his hands completely to himself when temptation beckoned, he gently stroked down the long line of Masa's side. The bed was quickly becoming warm enough to make him sleepy.

"They already imagine, and /say/ plenty. I doubt your buying me trinkets would change anything, except maybe confirm some of the 'facts'…"

"Well, there you are then… I'll get you something suitably outrageous, I can afford that… if only once… what would you like?" The general grinned.

"You know what I want."

"I do?" Confused at the soft words, Laro racked his brains for any memory of an item that the smaller man had coveted. Nothing in particular sprang to mind. "…remind me."

"… I want to go with you."

"Absolutely not." The words were out before he thought, and he winced at how they sounded. His wily friend had gone perfectly still. "…I'm sorry Masa… but I can't... You don't know what you're asking for."

"In that case… I want you to sleep with me… /carnally/… If I am to play the part of grieving concubine once you go, at least let me know what I'm grieving for…"

"… I… No Masa… I have a feeling that /that/ isn't what you really want… so no… I won't…"

"… In that case… don't try to buy my happiness. Rumor states that my person may be for sale, but I assure you that my feelings are still my own."

Laro sighed and rested his head against the silky hair. The slim man was unbearably stubborn at times. He was tired, bone tired, and he knew his partner had to be the same. It wasn't the best time to be having deep philosophical discussions. He was amazed they hadn't degenerated down to name calling yet. Best to end it before it did. He couldn't even remember who was to blame for starting the squabble. "…I'm sorry."

The silver haired man sighed in defeat, rolling over once more to accept the apology properly. "… You'll stay for breakfast?"

"If you'll let me."

"Don't be silly."

"I'm tired Masa…" The soldier curled around his partner with a contented grumble.

"… sleep then. We'll talk in the morning. Only idiots make decisions at this time of night."

******************************

It was tricky to slip from the bed without waking the soldier. Despite his exhaustion, Laro was a chronic early riser. He muttered in his sleep and rolled into the warm hollow in the bed as the silver-haired man stepped quietly to the small bathroom. 

He would need to move quickly to rebind his hand before his soldier woke. It throbbed painfully beneath the tight bindings. Kuja peeled off the clean top-layer of wrappings to reveal the mess beneath. When the cloth wouldn't come free on it's own he sunk his hand into the basin of cool water with a sigh and waited for it to soak off.

// What I wouldn't give for hot-and-cold tap water… //

After a few painful moments the cotton pulled free, blessedly leaving the scab intact. He glared at the small wound cursing its stubbornly slow healing. It was better than it had been a week ago, but still looked like it was only days old instead of something from over a fortnight ago. Checking for infection had become almost a ritual as he carefully prodded his palm, but everything looked and felt as it should with the exception of the fact that the wound still would not go away. He bit his lip slightly in worry.

// Maybe there's just something wrong with this place… I mean… It took me 6 months to recover from my /arrival/… maybe something in the air? Every world is different… The reason Garland chose Gaia in the first place was because it matched certain necessary patterns… it was compatible… what if this place isn't? What will happen? //

It was useless to speculate. Even if he had had the equipment to detect the differences in fields and natural energies he wouldn't know much more than he could guess now. His training had all been focused with acting upon pre-established theories, not concocting new ones. Such things had always been Mikoto's domain.

// She'd know what this meant… She was always clever. An automaton… but a clever one… // 

He smiled grimly as he rewrapped his hand, carefully disposing of the used bandages where Laro wouldn't find them. He didn't like admitting that he missed the genome. 'Sister' still sounded wrong in his mind, but less so then it had once. They were from the same template after all.

// Same template, different variables… round and round and round. Me, Zidane, Mikoto… She's on Gaia now… I wonder if without Terra influence… will she start to change?  I was always… a little 'off'… but going to Gaia was the real catalyst. And Zidane grew up there, so he /definitely/ had personality… so will she? //

Kuja couldn't imagine what it would be like for the prim woman to develop a sense of humor; a sense of anything. He smirked.

"Masa…?"

"Here." Splashing some water on his face before draining the bowl, he finished his tidying and turned back to the bedroom. "I thought you wanted to sleep in…"

"Maybe I will… are you coming back to bed?" The cat-man could easily read the implication that Laro would get up if he didn't.

"I thought I'd ring for breakfast for you…" He allowed himself to be caught and coaxed back onto the quilt. "…but maybe it can wait." 

It was hard to care about the soreness in his hand, or his other worries when being burrowed into the bed by a cuddly giant. For a few minutes there was a confusion of blankets and limbs but eventually he was comfortably tucked against the pillows, the cocoa-skinned soldier above and around him. He wrapped his arms around what he could of the larger man's back and grinned as Laro made a face.

"Your hands are freezing."

"You'll just have to warm them up…"

"Minx."

"I thought I was a kitten." His partner had leaned down for a kiss but Kuja spoiled it by playfully nipping at his nose when it came in reach. 

The general only chuckled again and succeeded on his second attempt. "You are adorable, whatever you are… and your tail is tickling me…"

"You're just full of complaints today. Perhaps I shouldn't have come back to bed." Teasing, the silver-haired man made to pull away only to be caught again. Propped on elbows and knees, Laro was trying not to crush him, but there was little room to maneuver. Besides, the kisses were too enjoyable to completely ignore. 

Wondering how far he could coax his sleepy soldier the mage stretched, lifting off the bed a little to press against the muscled chest.  Sensing the move was well received he went ahead and worked his arms free. Rumbling in pleasure, his companion seemed more than eager to follow his lead, following the pressure of the hands tangled in his hair to deepen his kiss. The cat-man gave up his recent apathy in favor of pushing harder, moving his lips and tongue against the soldier in ways that were anything but chaste. It was too easy to get excited by the feeling of the larger body pressing gently down against him. If he had to make a fool out of himself, at least he could guarantee that Laro would do the same with interest. 

He was dizzy by the time the general came up for air, almost giggling as his lover trailed hungry little kisses down his throat.

// God but he's good… Nothing like… // Kuja's brain went blank as lips and teeth gently pinched his ear. It didn't matter how many lovers he had on Gaia, men and women alike had been sampled, tried, and found wanting after a little while. Something whispered in the back of his mind that he would miss the soldier when he was gone. It wasn't that he was the most original or ardent beau, but there was an adoration in the way he held him, touched him, tasted him. 

// This can't last… he's just all muddled from just waking up… //  Deciding to enjoy what he was being given, the cat-man wiggled to gain better leverage against the smooth sheets and precipitated a near disaster. Silk while lovely looking had some definite disadvantages. Trying to accommodate the smaller man's need to shift angle, Laro shifted slightly and then lost a battle with the frictionless surface. Elbows sliding out from under him he all but landed on his lover. 

"Ooof… too heavy…"

"Shit, sorry…"

"Ow, watch the /tail/…" Several painful moments later the mage sighed in relief, pleased with the results if not the means by which they had come about. Apologetic lips worked against his throat as his soldier tried to make up for his mistake. Rather than the expected embarrassed ending, the slip had only helped things along. Kuja lifted his head slightly to get an appreciative view of the man now sprawled between his legs. It was more than little tempting to buck against the warm weight, to grind his hips against the washboard stomach to encourage the man to go further. 

// I think it safe to say… this is foreplay now… //

Laro's interest, pressing firmly against the back of the cat-man's thigh as the large man curled closer, was certain. He wondered if it was possible to gain by accident the exact thing he had been all but begging for over the past several months. Silently demanding another kiss, he decided to throw caution away and gave in to the need to lift his hips off the mattress, gently rocking, testing. The needy groan breathed into his mouth was all he could have asked for.

// Then again… they say actions speak louder than words… and Heaven knows /talking/ about it has gotten us nowhere… //

He couldn't have asked for a better way to spend a lazy morning. Kuja let his head fall back on the pillows, using feet and hands to pet what he could reach of his lover's back, arms and legs. It was amazing how well things were progressing, slowly but with absolute assurance that there would be no turning back.  The movement of his hips had started a sympathetic pattern. He sighed as he was rhythmically pushed against the mattress in a gently parody of what was to come. Wanting to goad the man further, he lifted his head again, kissing and nipping the muscled shoulder.  Over the smooth curve of bone and skin, a nervous movement caught his eye. It took a second to focus on it, anything beyond the confines of the bed seeming relatively unimportant. He locked eyes with the stunned soldier standing at the door, and startled, bit down harder than he intended.

"Ow!"

Laro's complaint was the catalyst for several things, not the least of which was the young man at the door dropping an arm full of scrolls. The cat-man felt his lover go very still in his arms, and pressed his forehead against the warm skin in regret. He didn't necessarily mind being walked in on. With the blankets it wasn't they had been providing /that/ much of a show.

// … Don't over react, Laro… I know you like your privacy but… // 

It was impossible that the dark man could hear his thoughts, but he must have picked up some of the warning as Kuja's hands tightened on his arms. Taking a breath to steady himself he craned his head to see who it was.

The younger man was still fumbling with his deliveries. Every time he stooped for a new one another would slip from his arms to bounce onto the floor.

"Leave them."

"…yessir…"  The junior officer turned to flee. 

"… Tell them…" Laro's voice caught him with his hand on the knob. "… Tell them I've taken the /day/ off. The Dean can make any decisions that can't wait."  

The news was apparently more than the young man could be prepared to cope with given what he had inadvertently interrupted. He bolted out the door, carefully shutting it behind him before the sound of his footsteps rapidly faded down the hall.

"Well… this will certainly add to my popularity…" Somehow Kuja couldn't help but find the whole thing funny. Disappointing, but funny.  His friend only swore bitterly.  

Whatever had been about to happen between them was over, the interruption providing an unwelcome reminder of reality for the soldier. "… I'm sorry…"

"What the hell are you apologizing for?"

"I…" The man grinned ruefully. "Never mind."

Kuja simply shrugged. "Some other time perhaps. Breakfast?"

"…Yes please."

The cat-man simply smirked as he retrieved his night-shirt from where it had fallen on the floor and padded over to the bell-pull. "You really are going to give me /quite/ a reputation… Nazer-kai… accosting me in front of the /help/…"

"Shut up, kitten…"

"I'm just teasing…" 

Still grumbling, the man rolled out of bed and staggered to the washroom to get a start on his day.

******************************

With the new trainees awaiting their first trip to the front and older soldiers back for refit, the streets of the city were awash in uniforms. Fine weather and the upcoming deployment seemed to drive everyone out and into the markets, desperate to soak up one last day of freedom before buckling down for the months ahead. The general grinned as he used his full height to peer over the heads of a noisy group of lancers and see where he was going. Fair weather and a little freedom were exactly what he needed for the afternoon. 

Laro checked for the tenth time that his partner was still following close behind, afraid of loosing the smaller man in the crush.  Wandering around without an honor guard was more fun, but meant living with the crowds. He wasn't above using his own bulk to push through the crowds at the entrance, the cat-man following gamely in his wake, arms tucked primly into his sleeves as he walked.

"There are one or two places I haven't been to in ages… and another few that I think you'd like…"

"You really don't have to do this you know…"

"Don't be silly… It would hardly be fair if someone else took you to the market before I did." He caught his partner by the elbow to guide him around a corner and down a less populated street. 

"The bars are popular I see…"

"Yeah well not everyone sleeps until almost lunch time before having breakfast."

The blue eyes turned to gaze at him with artful innocence. "But Laro, we weren't sleeping."

He strictly forbade the blush to come. "Stop that."

They passed several storefronts for tailors. One featured a robe of a blue so rich it almost looked green. He wasn't surprised when the cat-man looked longingly at it. "Do you want to try it?"

"No Laro… I have clothes enough."

"I didn't ask if you /needed/ it… I asked if you wanted it." The silver-haired man simply shook his head and looked away. Sighing in amusement, Laro caught his partner by the arm again and walked purposefully towards his goal. If he had to say farewell to his kitten and return to war, he planned to do it with style. Opening the door to a rather cluttered looking shop, he bowed the man in. 

Kuja looked around and blinked in surprise.  Clocks of every shape and color decorated the walls, each ticking and chiming as they counted the seconds. The general didn't wait for his awed companion, pushing gently passed him and making his way to the counter.

"Ritch… how are you."

"As I live and breathe, Nazer-kai… back from the dead I heard…"

"Not dead… battered, but not dead…" He turned away from the smiling artisan to observe his scholarly-looking friend. Masa was still engrossed buy the brass gears exposed on a particularly large grandfather clock. "… how's your son doing? I haven't been well informed about the front for a while now and it's hard to track down one person in a crowd…"

"Still alive, if that's your worry." The old man grinned wryly. "Ibat-kai is putting his skills to good use. He wrote me the other day to complain about how the sand is always getting in the coils but there is really no stopping it is there…"

"Not that I know of…"

"But I'm sure you didn't come always the way here just to ask about Jeo…"

"… Actually… no… I'm on the look out for something… a gift… and I thought immediately of you."

"I'm honored." Wrinkles eyes flickered from the soldier to the other occupant of the shop. "… for a friend?"

"Something like that." Laro slouched against the counter with a conspirator's smile. "I remember you had a rare gift with birds once. A friend of mine would probably fall absolutely in love with something with a touch of class…"

"Goodness Kai, those went out of fashion a while ago… no one wants a music box these days, they all either get the real thing or hire out."

"That's a pity… I don't think Masa is the sort to like seeing real animals in cages…"

"I may have one or two left… I still am fond of them even if the court isn't. I could check the back…" 

"Would you?"

Done with his investigations of the larger cabinet mechanisms, Kuja had finally come to see what was so exciting about the back of the store. "Someone you know, Laro?"

"An old friend."

"Ah."

"What do you think?" He gestured around the crowded shelves and walls.

The slender man allowed a small smile. "He has some legitimate skill… the models in particular are cleverly done."

"His son is just as good… Or would be if he ever worked on toys instead of weapons." Nodding in agreement, the cat-man leaned against the counter to study a fancifully designed ship on the shelf nearby. The rigging was done with embroidery floss to exacting detail.

A muffled thud from the small room beyond caused him to look up and at his companion in silent inquiry. Laro simply grinned, trying to look innocent.

"Ah… I'd almost forgot I had this… a commissioned piece… for the late Duchess of Heysworth… her children never came to claim it…" The cloth wrapped parcel that was reverently placed on the counter had the familiar bell shape of a birdcage. Peering around his burden to wink at his audience, the clockmaker fumbled with the ties. "Lets take a look shall we?"

Laro almost forgot to gage his friend's reaction as he stared at the marvelous music box. The device was captivating. Inside a carrying case designed to look like a decorative wire cage was a brilliantly yellow enamel bird. Each of the feathers was made of its own little brass sliver, shaped, molded and coated with a butter yellow enamel. The beady eyes were chips of lapis and the claws delicately gripping the branch were painted as to look almost real.  Every detail true to life, the clockwork canary rested still and dormant, waiting for someone to turn the toy-like crank.  Looking through the wire cage, he caught the cat-man's enraptured expression and knew it was the right thing.

"Her name is Virgo…" The old man's voice was almost reverant.

"What does she sing, Ritch?"

"Hmmm… 'A Summer Day Lullaby' as I recall… old but popular…" The elderly artisan lifted the cage off carefully and wound the base. Springs set into motion, the little bird flipped it's wings with a little rustle, cocking it's head in a parody of life and beginning to sing. The lazy little tune chimed through the quiet shop.

// It's uncanny how he makes them move so well… you almost forget they're just toys. //

The song finished and Laro let out a happy sigh. "I'll take her."

"Oh good. I can't think of anyone who would treat her as kindly as you…"

"Have her sent would you?"

"Of course."

"… eleven zodiacs once pondered… how best to capture Virgo's heart…" 

The soft whisper was almost inaudible but the soldier turned, curious. His friend was watching the treasure as it was tucked first into its protective cage, and then behind a layer of canvas. "What was that…?"

"Nothing… just… remembering a story I heard once…"  Interest suddenly fixed on something on the far side of the room, Masa left him to stare at the clocks. 

// He looks… rather sad almost… //

Worried, he followed, hoping he hadn't made a mistake. "Let me guess, you don't like canaries…"

"Quite the opposite, Laro… They and I have always had a great deal in common."  The silver-haired man smiled softly. "Both they and I have learned to sing despite our cages."

"Ah…" 

Whatever was bothering Masa seemed to pass. He looked back with a smile. "It's lovely, utterly useless, and likely going to bankrupt you… a fitting love-token I suppose?"

"Something like that. Shall we try someplace else?"

"'Go for broke'?"

"What good is money on a battlefield…"

"How true." Shaking his head in disbelief, the cat-man followed him from the shop.

******************************

******************************

Right… so… It's a waff fic so we can't go more than three chapters without… the waff… next up? Well, plot I guess… it had to happen sometime.

--Lunar.


	12. It Came to Me Unexpectedly

**Feather Flight:  It Came to Me Unexpectedly (part 12)**

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

*****

**notes:  **

Since it's been a while, and it's cruel to make anyone reread the old just to remember who's who… I give you a quick encyclopedia of "stuff thus far":

_Kuja: a.k.a. Mr. Kuja, Masa, kitten  - poor displaced ff9 villain trying to get by in a world in which he doesn't really belong… _

_Laro: a.k.a Laro Nazer, Nazer-kai, Great Kai – skilled general, reluctant war hero, rescued Kuja and fell in love (he's a little stupid like that)._

_Riquoi: a.k.a Duke Riquoi, walking-skeleton, 'old man', - most powerful man at court, possibly even more than the king._

_Finlay: a.k.a Dean Finlay, 'old battle axe'- Dean of the College of Science, only woman on the ruling council._

_Ibat: a.k.a Everet Ibat, Ibat-kai, Kai – Laro's friend and mentor, commander & chief of the human armies unless Laro returns…_

_Ing: a.k.a. Doctor Ing – famous doctor who runs a hospital by the coast, he seems to be friends with the Dean._

_The Selwe – An insect army/alien race taking many forms (Drones, Diggers and Stingers being a few). Ruled by a Queen from her ship in space, they seek to enslave the world via Towers._

_Towers – Strange monolithic structures placed at key points around the world that act as supports for a massive energy net that covers the world._

_The Net – Held aloft by the Towers, the net seems capable of suppressing any sort of magical energy._

_And now… on with the show.___

*****

The rocky grotto was several degrees cooler than the scorching heat of the chasms above. Sunlight reflected off the tawny rocks beyond the cave indirect light aided by dozens of shaky beams from flashlights. Soldiers crouched low, taking no chances as they crept further into the darkness. They had tracked the insects into the convoluted passages, but now that they were away from daylight, sightings had become scarce. Ibat Kai ran his fingers through the layer of loose gravel, checking for tell tail traces of Selwe infestation. 

"General…"

The almost sub-vocal hiss was more than enough. He crept forward carefully, noting that the mild grade to the wide passage would be ideal for his less surefooted enemies.

"Yes?"

"We found them, about a quarter mile further in. Scouts are checking for more… suitable entrances."

"Anything near by?"

"No sir."

The white-haired officer watched the man closely, gauging his confidence in the answer before shrugging whimsically. He stood up and stretched, popping joints in his back. "Well then, no need to go crawling around like our hard-shelled friends, hmm?" 

"Yes Sir."

Relief was palatable as the troops settled back on their heels, still alert but not as paranoid as before. He offered a wintry smile. "So far so good, boys.  Let's see how far we can play our little advantage. I want an 'in.' Natural flues, cracks, water courses, anything small or steep or tricky, anything they aren't watching… you know what you're looking for."

Men scattered silently ahead and back through the tunnels testing each of the fissures that looked likely. Gravel shifted in dusty rattles, the only sound that marked his specialist's burrowing down chutes and cracks barely wide enough to hold a grown man. Ibat was reminded irresistibly of burrowing rodents.  There were damn few places his 'rats' couldn't sneak into, not when the proverbial 'cheese' was so close.

"Let's prove once and for all that mammals are the superior species…"

"Sir?"  The old general turned to acknowledge the interruption. One of the radiomen had risked the interior of the cave, bringing news from the outside world. "The techs are done. It's a bit jury rigged, but I think it's safe to say we're going to light up their world."

Ibat grinned again, this time rocking back on his heels in delight.

*****

"The escort is due in by late tomorrow, Cornel Gerick and his men will remain here, most of them are injured anyway."

"He won't be returning to the front with me?"

The older statesman looked up from the strategy table and blinked. "You need an extra? Your own team has already been assembled… His unit is still in the field, of course, but it is too small to leave as an autonomous entity, you will absorb it into your army, you could use the extra companies."

"How many men?" Laro resisted the urge to scratch his nose, nervous gestures had no place in the war room. "Does he know he's being reassigned to the capital?"

// Exactly how big a command have we just yanked out from under this man? //

"… He has been supervising… fifth and sixth armies for Ibat Kai…" The politician had been taken by surprise by the question, looking to his aide to provide more information. 

"The sixth was nearly destroyed after the battle at Wilker pass… the fifth is in pretty good shape, with the re-supply we're sending out with General Nazer, they should be ready for action…"

The dark man banged his fist gently on the edge of the trestle table, jarring the topographical map's little trees. No one would meet his gaze. "… Does /he/ know?"

"… We have not yet had time to inform him of his orders, he will be briefed on his return to the capital…"

"You…" Scrubbing his head only made the metal beads at the ends of his braids clatter, reminding him for a chilling moment of the rattle of chitinous legs and mandibles. There wasn't a polite word strong enough for the disgust he felt.  Had he been on the battlefield, he might have just spoken his peace, but he wasn't independent quite yet. A command that was not yet his could still be taken away. Laro bit his tongue and forced himself to be coherent. "Is there a particular reason why this man is being recalled instead of being integrated?"

"It is felt that he is still too green for the responsibilities he assumed when his predecessor died."  Riquoi's mild comment sent an almost audible warning to the group of tense soldiers and statesmen. They weren't children to decent to name-calling and fists to resolve the obvious blunder. The duke sighed, silently taking on the blame for the decision, and any repercussions. "His losses in the past two actions have been unacceptable given his accomplishments and he is not currently in good standing with his men…"

"With all due respect my lord, the battle…"

"… Was a slaughter for everyone, I know." He waived several of the frustrated younger officers back. "I'm not saying he's bad. Just that he's had bad luck, that's all… Gerick is a clever man. He'll be useful here. We can rotate him back into action if needed, but for now, he's the wrong man in the wrong place."

The frail nobleman caught Laro's eye, and held it, making sure his point was making it across. "We need someone who can take this fight to the mat, general, not just another pawn in the game."

"Fine," The taller man sighed, scrubbing his head again. "But I'm not going to be the one to tell the poor bastard that he's not coming with me."

*****

The air smelled sickly sweet. It was a familiar aroma. General Ibat breathed through his mouth, enduring it with calm acceptance as he crab-walked his way slowly down the cramped shaft. It was dark in the wind-worn tube. There was no risking the use of lights this close to their intended prey. Multi-faceted eyes were weak on details, but they could certainly pick up on motion and point-sources of light. He had no real urge to make himself and his scouts a target.

Moving carefully so as to not dislodge any loose gravel, he played a blind game of  'follow-the-leader' with the man a few feet ahead of them. For the lieutenant, it was his second time down the shaft, and he moved with calm confidence.

// Ah, for the flexibility and stamina I had at 20, or hell, even 30… I'm getting too old for this nonsense… the boy Laro can /have/ it. I'll stick to bossing the kids around out on the field. //

The pack strapped carefully to his chest didn't make the movements any easier. He squinched along the fissure as best he could, unwilling to stay behind and let younger men have all the fun.  When the crouched body just ahead of his suddenly ducked aside to reveal a wide-open room just ahead, it was all he could do not to sigh in relief. Signaling the third man to tell him they had arrived, he worked his way free of the fissure's lip and dropped into a discrete sprawl on the shadowy ledge. 

He couldn't have asked for a better position if he had tried.  Fifty feet beneath his perch was the pseudo-hive, a large cavern of natural rock that was all but blanketed in strange rusty orange mold and glassy looking stacks of pods. The Selwe hadn't bothered to set up more than the minimum of lighting to suit their needs, various fragile looking tripods holding lamps aloft. The bright white light bathed the floor and lower walls of the cave, but left the upper half of the space blissfully dim. His troops might as well have been invisible.

// The only thing that could give us away is the change in humidity… but as covered in rock-dust as we all are, I doubt anyone is sweating /that/ much… If we move fast they won't have time to sniff anything amiss… //

Bemused, the general watched one of the lumbering guard drones as it slowly waded through the spongy growth on the floor. It's narrow, hard-shelled legs cut through the sticky substance easily, the disturbed molds releasing small clouds of spores and an almost dizzying wave of the rotting odor. 

At least this far from civilization and the front, it was a safe bet that most of the 'organic material' under the mold was anything but human.  In other places he hadn't been so lucky. Here and there, in the thinner patches towards the edge of the room, evidence of the sort of 'mulch' used was apparent. A bony ribcage was mostly stripped of meat, recognizable as having once belonged to a goat.

// Damn sponge-eaters… at this rate even if we win the war, we'll still starve… there's not enough wildlife left to have a bar-b-q much less start a farm with… //  

Ibat wondered to himself what the insects would do once they ran out of animals to grind into paste to feed their molds. So far the aliens had shown no sign of interest in 'conservation,' so there had to be some other means of getting the sugar-laden ferns to grow. He shook his head, dismissing the unimportant thoughts. Across the roof of the chamber, a similar ledge was being occupied. He waived to get their attention and pointed out the rough plan of attack. Wordlessly, he began to strip the carefully padded gas cartridges from his chest, passing them to the young man on his left. His lieutenant simply smiled, screwing the volatile fuel into one of several jury-rigged slots on the back of his weapon. On his right, the second scout was efficiently preparing coils of rope.  

The general pulled his goggles and mask down off the top of his head, settling them in place with a practiced snap. The bugs were in for one hell of a surprise. 

***** 

Fisting his hand into his robe to keep himself from poking at his bandages, Kuja ignored the itchy sensation in his palm.  He was tired, and the idea of another dinner at court without Laro was not entertaining enough to give him the appetite he lacked.  The cat-man shouldered the door to his suite open and pulled his hat off with a sigh. 

Sun had set already, leaving the sitting room more than a little gloomy even with the cheerful fire. The dark suited him well enough, helping to relax him after a long afternoon at the college. His students were precocious, but working with chemicals was always a messy smelly business. It hadn't helped his headache in the slightest. Kuja sank into one of the overstuffed chairs and struggled to methodically rid himself of his boots. His fingers were clumsy with the laces.

Drained as he was, he almost didn't see the new addition to the room. A metallic gleam caught his eye as he sat up, digging his toes into the carpet. The armor was arrayed in an almost-lifelike pose, waiting next to the fireplace for its owner to come and claim it. The genome shivered, feeling chilled by the unwelcome guest in his suite. Inanimate, the uniform hung on the stand like a ghost, an ill omen of things to come. 

Feeling sick, the cat-man resolutely turned his back on the equipment, distaining further investigation.  It was past time for a strategic withdrawal. Leaving a crumpled trail of clothing behind him, he climbed into bed and burrowed beneath the quilts. No one would notice his early bed-time. The servants from the college would assume he was eating at the castle. The ones from the castle would assume he had dined with the Dean. Laro would be gone until well into the night, and never expected him to wait.  The deception was almost too easy. Kuja rolled onto his back, noticing for the first time how many personal touches the room had developed. 

Counting the days since his arrival only reminded him that time was running out. After a month of preparation Laro's army was ready to depart. The armor was among hundreds of finishing touches.  

One of the bigger lamps was lit, wick set low to act as a guide in the darkened room. It was more than enough for him to see by, and bemused he turned to look at his small clockwork canary in its place of honor by the hearth. Kuja didn't have the heart to keep it safe within its ornamental cage. Instead, it perched unfettered on its branch, as if staying out of mere politeness. 

He pondered climbing out of bed to turn the ornamental key and make the toy sing. It, like he, had earned a quiet evening alone and unmolested. The silver-haired man fumbled through a small stack of books on the night-table only to decide he didn't even have the energy to read.

// Like my poor little canary…  It's as if someone has neglected to wind my springs… //

The metaphor wasn't precisely sensible. He wasn't certain if the idea of a turn-key in his back amused or disgusted him. In the end he settled for apathy. It was the easiest course to take. 

// When was the last time I woke up and really felt awake…? Rested…? //  

His thoughts turned back to the canary and his afternoon spent wandering the city in Laro's shadow. The memory was sharp, tangible, but the week after was a blur.  Every day was more and more of a struggle to be 'normal'.  Vaguely he wondered if he should ask for help, seek assistance beyond what he could do for himself, but the idea was rejected as soon as it was formed.  He didn't want to worry the soldier. Not with the man so soon to be assigned to the front. As often absent as Laro was, he had an ear everywhere. It would be impossible to approach the Dean or one of the doctors without his finding out.

// I could write to Ing maybe… he's days away and likely won't have any suggestions beyond 'seek local help'… but… it's /something/ anyway… but then he'll just get Dean Finlay involved… and she'll tell Laro. //

He frowned. Whatever his ailment was, it could wait. Once his protector was gone, there would be time for any number of things. Kuja looked around the room, realizing that he soon would have it all to himself. It was too big for just one person; especially when that person was already rather on the short side.  He curled into a ball between the sheets, knees hugged to his chest with his tail protectively covering his feet. Despite its cozy comforts, the space already had a lonely feel.

Closing his eyes, he distanced himself from his treacherous body, sending his mind to drift in the haze deep inside, trying to gain some feeling of rest that he had been sorely lacking.  

*****

Burnt sugar. Ibat pulled off his mask, watching in amusement as the natural airflow of the cavern carried the majority of the smoke up and away from the floor before it could make breathing too difficult. He coughed once, nose wrinkling at a particularly acrid cloud as it passed. 

"Area secure, sir."

"Excellent." He poked the large corpse at his feet carefully, never willing to claim victory until there was no chance of being caught by surprise. His make shift weapon – one of the tripods that until a moment ago had been heating a pile of eggs – had done well enough, the slender bar easily braking through the weak joints in the large creature's shell. This one at least, was dead. Occasional burst of metallic screaming could still be heard from the hallways beyond, his more aggressive scouts clearing a path back to the surface so the rest of the brigade could spill down and cause mayhem among the pupae and full-grown Selwe still scuttling around the caves. Flamethrowers produced gouty puffs of destruction, caramelizing and then blackening both pods and mold with brutal efficiency. 

"Reminds me of mother's cooking, really…"

"That's what you always say, sir…"  One of the sergeants pulled his mask off, revealing a fairly clean patch of skin amidst all the soot. "She can't have been /that/ bad…"

Ibat only grinned at the man and then around the charcoaled cave. "Just be sure of those eggs, gentlemen. I want everything in here charcoal before we leave."

"Sir!" Both men turned to greet the new comer. "We've found a secondary pseudo-hive a little deeper in… we seem to have staggered into the back door of a larger complex…"

"Guards?"

"Being neutralized as we speak sir, Captain Blair requests a sterilization crew as soon as is convenient."

The old general pulled his 'spear' free with a sigh, signaling several of the idle men to shoulder their weapons and follow him. "My complements to Mr. Blair, we'll be along shortly."

"The 'queen' isn't going to like this…" His sergeant snickered maliciously, checking the gauges on his own fuel tanks before falling in step.

***** 

Somehow a rather expensive bottle of wine had found its way under his arm as he paused in the kitchens for a snack. The general wasn't usually a man for drinking, but after the stress of the day, and the final dates set, he figured it was now or never. Carefully juggling the glasses into his other hand, he fumbled with the door. It was early yet, and he couldn't think of a better way to spend a last evening at home then enjoying a quiet night pleasantly drunk with the most beautiful man at court. Smiling stupidly he set his burdens on the table, pouring himself a drink while accustoming his eyes to the gloomy interior. He almost tripped on a boot on his way to the bedroom and frowned that the maids had forgotten it.

// Maybe he's not back yet? //

Laro adjusted the wick, coaxing the flame higher to better light the room. Once he could see the floor he chuckled, wondering how he had managed to not trip over the rest. Stooping to pick up the forlorn piles of clothes, he piled them in a chair.

// Somebody wasn't expecting me to come back until dawn again… // 

It took a moment to distinguish what was man and what was bedding among the satiny quilts. He sat on the edge, appreciating the chance to watch his partner sleeping. Deciding that he dared, Laro reached out and gently shook the cat-man's arm. Masa came awake with a squeaky yawn, his expression adorably child-like.

"Good evening…"

Blue eyes blinked lazily at him, "Is that wine?"

"Ah, I see you have your priorities in order… you must be awake."

The silver-haired man smiled, stretching as only he could before sitting up and claiming the glass. "How very thoughtful… did you bring one for yourself?" 

Shaking his head in amusement, Laro went to fetch the second glass only to pause at the door. "When did /that/ arrive."

"Sometime this afternoon I imagine. It was waiting for you when I got here." Curious, his companion had left the warmth of the bed in order to stand beside him. The general's borrowed robe was almost enough to wrap around him twice, hands and feet incongruously small where they peeked out from under the volumes of quilted fabric.

"… It looks alright…"

"Do you really fight with all that armor on the one arm?"

"More mobile than having a shield…"

"What if they strike for the other side?"

"I dodge?"

"Hmmm, good point." The slender man tucked his arms into his sleeves.

"You cold?"

"… Not really." Masa shrugged.

"Pity you aren't coming with me, it'll be hotter than hell this time of year…"

"I /do/ have a certain fondness of deserts, but unless you've changed your mind…"

"No."

"… then I'm staying here." The cat-man sighed. "I wish you'd reconsider." 

Having no answer the soldier claimed the second glass, sipping the mellow wine as he moved to look at the pile of supplies. His partner simply sighed, moving to light two of the lamps in the sitting room. 

"You should try it on… make sure it fits…" 

Laro turned, suspicious of the mild comment. "I'm sure it's fine."

"Oh come… I'll help…"

"Why?"

Masa's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Maybe I fancy a man in uniform…?"

"I'm in a uniform now… one a hell of a lot more 'huggable' than all /that/…"  Even protesting, he knew he had lost. If playing the fool was what it took to make his wily partner smile, then he was more than happy to oblige. He sighed melodramatically. "But it seems you'll have to see for yourself… I feel silly wearing a helmet indoors."

The cat-man simply chuckled, watching appreciatively as he peeled off jacket shirt and shoes. There was nothing too complicated in the layers and toggles, even out of practice, Laro remembered how things were supposed to be with only one or two moments of confusion. Delicate fingers helped to straighten out tangled straps and reach the last two awkward pulls that tightened his shoulder plates against his chest. Stretching a little to settle the armor, he decided that there were one or two places that could still use padding. His aides could deal with it tomorrow.

"Well well… it looks better on you then on the rack."  

Taking the proffered helmet, the soldier raked his hair back and crammed it on his head. It was hopelessly formal, only used for parades and the like. He felt like his head was inside a barrel. "…Tada."

"Impressive."  It was impossible to tell if the man was laughing at him or not. 

"Happy?"

"…Thrilled."

"Good, now help me get out of this thing?"

This time Masa did laugh, taking the helmet back and placing it reverently on the couch. "You look like some sort of titan, 'Nazer Kai'… my own mighty Aries gird for war… well… except he was always drawn with a kilt…"

"What's a kilt?"

"A kind of skirt."

"Sounds embarrassing." He went to unlace the protective plates from his arm only to find himself intercepted. An armful of silvery beauty was more than a little distracting. Before he could stop himself he was being pulled down into an eager kiss. Happy to oblige, he held Masa closer, adding his own desire to the spark he felt between them. The cat-man chuckled and then winced, accidentally banging an elbow against the layered plates.

"Ow …" 

"Oh damn, are you alright?" It was hard not to laugh at his partner's sulky expression as he nursed his elbow. Laro grinned, but only a little. "I told you this get-up wasn't very huggable."

"Then by all means, sweet Aries, we must strip you of this 'uncomely shell', lest your Virgo slip away from you and seek comfort in the arms of another."

"What are you talking about…"  Bemused, he made quick work of shedding the armored jacket and then starting on the rest. He left the costume in a heap next to the couch.

"Nothing, just remembering an old story, that's all… nothing important…"

"This 'Aries' was a soldier? Who was Virgo?"

"An indecisive maid who was courted by many princes." Masa shrugged eloquently, "Another drink?"

"Why not."  The alcohol was sweeter than expected on the second glass, helping him to forget his trying day. "So will you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"The story… you rarely speak of things from your homeland."

"There is rarely ever something worth saying about it."

"Tell me anyway." Shirtless, Laro wondered if the room wasn't a little cool after all. It made no sense to get dressed again so late in the evening, but reclaiming his robe would only leave his partner in a similar situation.

// … unless I remember to give him the damn box… // 

He smiled, finishing the glass and setting it aside. "But first, 'what goes around, comes around' I think…"

"What's all this?"  The silver-haired man raised an eyebrow curiously as he watched the soldier fumbling through several of the boxes still unopened next to the hearth. 

"You'll see…"  The dark-man produced a rather ornamental package from the pile, wide and flat of the sort used to hold clothing. "Here." 

Masa looked at the box, and then at the man. "What is it?"

"For you, idiot. Open it?" Giving the silvery man gifts outright was usually hit-or-miss depending on the mood, but the heady wine had given him confidence. "I remembered that you liked this one… and gods know /mine/ could hold three of you… so I figured, what's the harm…?"

Doubtful fingers lifted off the lid and pulled back the layer of paper. The cat-man sighed in pleasure although a little melancholy. "… It's lovely."

"It'd look better on you?" Feeling a sort of childish anticipation he set the box down, pulling the silky fabric free and holding it up. If this was to be his last night of 'peace' he was determined to enjoy it as much as he could, even if it meant acting like a kid again. "Your turn to try things on… fair's fair…"

 // humor me, Masa… //  

The pale man's hesitation lasted a long moment before he succumbed with a chuckle.  Laro's over-sized robe was shed and draped on the chair in exchange for the new garment. The soldier could only whisper a silent thank you to which ever god had decided that the man needed no body-shyness. Wine colored satin the slid over the smooth skin in a way that was utterly touchable. He had to pinch himself to stop ogling.

"See something you like?" 

"Yes?" He swallowed dryly, and wondered at his good luck. Even tired-looking and somewhat wild-haired from his recent nap, Masa seemed imperial when draped around by the rich purple color. "…I… I was going to get you the blue one… but then I thought… the first time I saw you… you had a color sort of like that…" 

"Call me hopelessly effeminate, but purples have always been my favorites…" The strong color of the fabric caused exotic highlights in his silver hair. The contrast of the pale flax on dark satin was all the more interesting for the added color. Compared to the more 'orthodox' color palette of his usual jackets, the cat-man's robe all but glowed. "…Thank you, Laro…"

"Now you can hold court in bed if you like… boss the servants around and be a nuisance to make up for the fact that you can't yell at me like you're used to…"

"I doubt it…" Masa smiled quietly and ran an appreciative hand over the fabric of his draped sleeve. "… It's warmer than I expected…"

"Good." Uncertain how to react to his partner's mood, the soldier reclaimed his less glamorous wrap and investigated the contents of his bottle. Somehow in their conversation they had managed to work their way through the majority of the wine. It was no wonder he was talking like an idiot.

// Well 'drunk' was on the agenda… and this /is/ a strong enough pressing, especially for a lightweight like me… // He looked over at the slender man, appreciating the way he bent to extinguish the lamps. 

// He looks a little pink too, and not just from the robe… for the best I suppose, it'd be embarrassing to be drunk under the table by a man who weighs half of what I do… and on one bottle of wine… // 

Laro had no doubts as to which of them would last longer in such a contest, but he decided it didn't matter. Toping off both glasses with the last of the vintage, he followed the cat-man into the bedroom. 

***** 

The labyrinthine passages took them straight to the edge of the mountain. Advanced troops cleared the way with whatever they could, risking small landslides to trap or cripple their opponents whenever they dared.  The Selwe had no advantage in the tight quarters of their caves. Even the ceilings weren't high enough in the tubes for them to crawl to safety.  Ibat's attack force poured through the complex with an almost rabid efficiency, grateful for an easy fight after months of battling in the open where the bugs had every advantage. 

It was surprising, therefore when they found themselves staggering back into sunlight, soft dirt underfoot rather than the smooth wind-cut stone of the chasms above. The sandy waste stretched off into the distance, running until it hit another low rise of mountains, and the slender black line of another spire, a Tower currently beyond their reach.

Already well across the lumpy plain, the last of their prey were scuttling and flying in frantic haste, following some pre-conditioned signal to return to the next hive point.  Several men made to follow, unable to resist the promise offered. The survivors would lead them to the next logical attack point, hopefully another set of caves where they could have another easy victory.

"Wait."

Ibat squinted across the hot sandy plateau, instinct telling him to be cautious. There was nothing, just the retreating black specks of their enemies. The itch to pursue them while they were still in sight was overwhelming. 

"General… they're…"

"I know…" He sighed in frustration. "Sound a 'regroup', I want to go as much as you do, but I want to know our ass is covered if it's an ambush…"

Dedicated as the soldiers were, the two laser cannons were hoisted into place as fast as was safe, scouts scaling the porous rock wall to scan the field. "They're making a straight run, no sign that they've been heard by the next hive…"

"It's only a matter of time…" The old general exchanged the bent metal pole for his customary harpoon-style weapon. "Right, I need some volunteers who want a little exercise…"

"With all due respect sir, you're not going." Captain Blair's face was smoky black from fighting in the caves. It made his square features all the more severe. "Leave it to the fast-footed… we'll track them and signal back with anything we find out."

"Too /old/ am I…?"

"Age and speed are two separate things." The officer adjusted his weapon, a nasty looking pike that replaced a left hand long missing. "Besides, it's not a general's place to do grunt re-con work." 

Ibat looked longingly over the sand, but had to concede the point. "Very well then, captain. Let's see if you can keep them in sight… take a radio."

"They'll hear."

"Take it anyway… for safety." 

Understanding dawned, and the stern expression relaxed into a small smile. "Yessir." 

Ten men followed the captain out into the sun, long legs stretching into a ground-eating lope. The white-haired commander watched them as they shrunk into the distance, studying the plains with a worried glare. Something about the rubble-strewn sand bothered him.

"Eyes sharp above."  His scouts affirmed the order quietly, hunkering low against the rocks as they watched their friend's progress. There was precious little in the scenery to take as a landmark, or any sort of point of reference. The only things visible were the bugs, the soldiers and the occasional scrubby patch of grass, tiny specks in the sea of dusty brown.

Looking down, Ibat studied the gravely texture of the dry soil. A shiver started in his feet and tickled the back of his knees. For a moment he assumed it was exhaustion, but observing the dirt, he felt it again, watching small pebbles skitter as he did so. Something clicked and he swore softly before turning to his men. Standing on the rocks, or positioned on the cliffs, they couldn't feel the vibration in the earth.

"Call Blair! There's a digger!"

His radiomen were too sharp to waste time asking questions, shouting the terse instructions into the battered pickups as the scouts manning the cannons, doubled their efforts. There would be a sign before the attack, if their eyes were sharp enough to see it. 

// Come on you bastard… where are you… //

If the digger was between Blair and the caves, the man would have a better chance continuing ahead. If the monster lay ahead, then not to turn back was suicide.  The old general gritted his teeth, studying the rocky outcrops scattered around the barren area. Younger eyes seeing what he could not, one of the artillerymen began shouting out directions, his voice echoed immediately over the radio to assist their running comrades.

Everyone turned to see what was happening, the trembling underfoot easier to detect now that the creature was surfacing. Black as raven wing, a massive millipede like body breached the sandy surface like a freight train, thousands of delicate legs churning to cleave the soil as it emitted a hissing bellow.  

// Big mother… easy target, if we can hit it before it hits the captain… //

"Open fire."

Bursts of laser light skidded across the mammoth beast's back like splashes of water, seeking out the tender membranes between the segmented armor. It was a distraction at best. The volunteers had turned back, using the small lead they had been given for all it was worth. Sprinting across the loose soil, they strained to regain the safety of bedrock, the sheltering shadows of the caves.

// But how many… is there another? Do we have enough firepower to even stop /one/? // 

It had been over a year since Ibat had last seen a full-grown crawler, two years since he had needed to fight one. He wasn't looking forward to it, rocky protection or not. His attack force was traveling light, moving to clear a path for the bulk of the army as it navigated the mountains. They were prepared for skirmishes, not for all out assaults on giants. He racked his brain for anything in the dwindling supplies that could be of use.

"Incendiaries?"

His aide shook his head grimly, "None left sir."

"What /have/ we got then."

"A few more fuel canisters, ropes and cables… nothing big enough to take an earth-digger down…"

The monster was gaining speed. Their only advantage lay in that facing-towards them, it's fragile sensory organs were exposed.  Ibat's laser gunners did their grim best to blind the insect, shooting above the heads of their teammates as they ran flat out for the caves. One of the lagging men tripped and disappeared from view no one turned back to check on him. 

The general watched their progress, realizing that neither his men, nor the giant insect would slow their progress upon reaching the caves. "All men fall back. We're going to get slammed!" 

He reached out and caught the first of the lasers that was dropped from above. Cradling the precious cargo as the scouts followed it down. Scrambling to get out of the way, they fell back into the shady depths. Ibat gauged the height of their enemy to the height of the cave's mouth, not liking what he saw. "We need a side passage, a smaller one."

  
"About 50 feet back, sir."

"Good, that'll do just fine." He looked out across the sand, almost able to hear his men breathing as they ran. Most of them would probably make it in time. "Run boys…"

The first group of men hit the cave and didn't stop, knowing even without the shouting to continue deeper. Right behind them, the digger didn't hesitate, plowing into the echoing caves with an almost mechanical screech of carapace-on-stone.  

Ibat patted his captain on the shoulder as the man gasped for breath against the wall.  The entrance to their side passage was entirely obscured by a massive black armored flank. 

"With all due respect sir…" One of his aides tapped his shoulder and pointed at his favorite weapon. He looked down at the harpoon, and then at the large canister of methane in the young man's hands and smiled.

****

The hands sliding along his back were almost scorching hot, fingers rough in comparison with the satin and all the more real for it. Kuja pressed back into the bed, coaxing his suitor closer, wanting to be immersed in the desperate warmth. He sighed in contentment as the dark man complied, settling himself gently above and beside, burrowing his face against the cat-man's neck. Kuja couldn't help but shiver at the contrast, fingers instinctively tangling in the coarse little braids to cradle the soldier closer. The wine sat strangely in his stomach, churning and sour and refusing to settle. It echoed his headache from before. He forced himself to ignore it, focusing instead on tracing the small scars running along his lover's back. Fingers sympathetically pet the old wounds before moving on to memorize the rest of the smooth muscled torso. Muffled a little by the pillow, he heard his name being whispered in his ear. 

// There is definitely something to this 'being blanketed' by someone… To think, I couldn't stand it when King or one of the others tried to sleep on me… maybe it was a trust thing… sex is one thing, but actually sleeping is something else… // He closed his eyes and curled closer to the second occupant of the bed.

// I used to feel… chained… caged… but with him it's different. //  

The soldier nuzzled his ear as his hands continued their soothing caress. "Laro… you can't be comfortable all curled like that…"

"My left arm is going to sleep, now that you mention it." The comment was interspersed with ticklish kisses. Squirming to get his sensitive ear out of reach, the silver-haired man laughed breathlessly.

"So lay normally then."

"I don't want to crush you."

"So don't."

"But I want to touch you…"

"Hmmm that could be more of a challenge…" Kuja felt more than heard the man's amused grumbling. After a moment of fumbling he coaxed them into a more comfortable tangle. Laro's are was more than long enough to sneak under his waist and circle his back. The large hand's range was limited, stroking his side a moment before settling comfortably on his hip. The smaller man sighed, leaning into the smooth shoulder, content to be cuddled as long as he could. Something about the living heat was infinitely superior to huddling alone in the soft bedding. He tried to encourage the touches to continue, coaxing the hand resting on his shoulder to continue its stroke.

"… Poor attention starved kitten…" Lips teased his ear again, almost distracting him from the steady pressure running the length of his spine. The warm touch didn't stop at his hip, two fingers playfully sliding from skin to tail and daring to tug gently.

"Ow." Kuja turned his face against the hot skin, biting down gently as a warning. His tail received a conciliatory pat. If the weight of the sheets would have allowed it, he would have let it lash the man.

"Sorry…" 

"No you're not…" 

The soldier shifted again, working down the bed enough to manage a kiss. "Am too…" Dark eyes watched him. What they saw made the man smile.

"What?"

"… love you."  The cat-man rolled his eyes at the sentimentality, but didn't have the heart to scold like he usually would. Laro smiled wider at the lack of rebuttal. "… and I know you feel the same…"

"Says who?" Curious, Kuja tilted his head to study the man's expression. Only one person had ever dared to presume on his emotions, and it had been unnerving then too. It was bad enough to have done something selfless for his ego-maniac brother without having been called on it. 

"Me…" A large finger pressed gently against his lips, silencing his sharp reply. "Even if you say otherwise… I think… I think you must care more than just a little… I believe you do…" 

// … and you're implying that if I say otherwise… it'll break your poor heart, won't it… Laro, the world isn't as innocent as you seem to take it for… //

He looked away a moment, and found that he didn't have the heart to contradict. It was cowardice to allow the soldier to lead himself on… or maybe it was cowardice that prevented himself from really considering the possibilities between them. He didn't care to find out. Neither answer held much appeal to him. In the end he simply smiled up at the man wondering if his expression was still coy, or if it looked as sickly as he was afraid it did. "… if you say so." 

"I know so." 

"… and now?"

"I may leave tomorrow…"

"Or the morning after…"

".. yes, or the morning after…"  

It was almost painful to watch the dark man's bashful hesitation; especially when he already knew the question. Kuja returned the small kisses in kind, wondering whether to take pity on his more reserved friend.  He was tired -- it was true -- but not so tired to pass up the only chance he was likely to get. Deciding to be bold he shifted slightly, working his hands down the muscular chest in a way that would guarantee his words would not be misunderstood. "Would you mind terribly then… if I wanted something to remember you by?"  

"…Masa…"

"I'll need something to keep me warm all alone in this bed until you return…" 

// If you return…  oh god, I don't want to be left alone here… //

Latching onto the warmth, he wrapped himself around the soldier as much as he was able. Kisses still flavored a little by the wine, Laro followed his lead, laying above him with his weight on his elbows as they touched and tasted each other. Aching muscles complained at the slow rhythm building between them, but heat seeped through the bed giving energy where he thought he had none. The skin gently grinding against his felt almost molten. He wrapped his legs around, unwilling to give an inch wishing there was a way to coax the dark man's more volatile blood into flowing along his veins as well. 

// I want… I want to feel alive… //

The general was leading now, the best Kuja could do was try and keep up. His body responded as if asleep. Even when presented the one thing he had been yearning for, the arousal flowing in him was slow and weak. He focused on the tenuous sensations, fanning them brighter in a way he had never needed to before. 

// … for Laro… //

Burying his face in the comforting nook beneath the taller man's chin, he repeated the words to himself, amazed to realize that physically at least, he didn't really want this. The desire was there, but his body was stubbornly uncooperative. Hesitantly, he reached down to stroke himself, knuckles grazing his lover's more impressive assets, trying to remind himself of the pleasure he had enjoyed in the past. A second hand moved to cover his, caressing both of them under the sheets and finally igniting the spark he had somehow misplaced. The cat-man sighed in delight lapping playfully at the salty skin beneath his lips as the dark man thrust against him.  Almost in another world, Laro's eyes were closed as he worked them both into readiness. 

"You want me…" He didn't have to pretend breathless anticipation. He couldn't seem to keep enough air in his lungs. Forcing his treacherous body to behave, he stretched a little, hooking a finger around the drawer-pull to get at the contents within.

"More than anything…"

"Well then?" The oil was cool on his fingers. He shivered as he applied it despite the heat around him. 

"…It's alright?"

"I want you to."  Kuja turned his face back against the soldier's shoulder and relaxed as best he could. It wasn't quite enough. Somehow his murmured words of encouragement were audible despite the paralyzing discomfort. His lover was both gentle and adept. It was a pity he couldn't appreciated it more. He closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe normally.  All that mattered anymore was to be convincing about it, forcing himself to move as he should, sigh as he should, and wonder at why there was no pleasure in it; wonder when it would be over.

// He mustn't know… // 

The general separated from him with a sigh, rolling on his side and pulling the smaller man against him to keep him close.  The pale man sighed, knowing his companion was too much of a gentleman to just fall asleep and give him time to himself.  Thankfully, Laro didn't seem to have much to say, preferring to touch instead. His large hands were soothing as they smoothed over his skin. He shivered and curled closer feeling clammy and ill. 

// I don't understand… why… I've never been sick in my life… why do I have to feel like this /now/… //

"You're crying." The whisper was almost horrified, forcing Kuja to pay attention enough to open his eyes. His face felt suspiciously damp. More than he would have expected from just sweat alone. He raised his hand, disbelieving until he felt wet trails the tears had left behind.

"Oh…" He tasted his fingers, the salty flavor acidic on his tongue. Paralyzed with guilt, his lover could only watch. "I really am…"

"I hurt you…"  

// 'It wasn't you, it was me'… isn't that how my line goes…? He deserves better… deserved better. //  

"There are other reasons for tears you know, then because of hurt…" Kuja was amazed at how easily the lie, and the smile, came to his lips. He could feel the tense muscles under his fingers begin to relax, guilt reluctantly fading. A playful kiss helped it along, though the movement made his stomach turn unpleasantly. 

"You were… just as sweet as I thought you would be…"  

"Are you sure?"

"I think I am the authority on how I feel, Laro…"  He smiled again, pleased by the dark man's sheepish expression. "You worry too much."

"I guess I'm just not used to making people cry…" 

He felt the bars to his cage closing. His innocent expression masked an almost suffocating sensation. Kuja feigned a yawn. "… I was… just thinking… of how lonely it will be… when you are away."

"Oh." Sympathetic, the larger man curled around him again assuming correctly that he wanted to sleep soon. "I… I'm sorry."

"Don't be silly… you do what you must. I understand that… I really do."  The cat-man closed his eyes, allowing his lover to assume his gentle caresses were lulling him into a dream. It wasn't until long after the hand had grown still that he dared to slip from the bed to get quietly sick in the bathroom. 

*****

*****

Padded it a little to make up for the lateness… sigh –Lunar. 


	13. You Fight So Hard

**Feather Flight:**** You Fight So Hard for My Dreams (part 13)**

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

*****

notes:

More useless vocabulary:

_The Line:  a.k.a. the front. The Selwe are methodical, sweeping across the continent hoping to drive the humans into the sea. Naturally the human armies have something to say about this…_

_Shards:  Crystal conduits at the top of every Tower act as focuses for the Net. Humans scavenge these crystals and break them for a variety of military uses._

*****

Laro woke up in time for the sunrise.  The lazy warmth of his bed was tempting, Masa even more so. He nuzzled the pale man gently, smiling when his efforts only resulted in a sleepy mutter. There were shadows under the closed eyes, even asleep the cat-man looked exhausted. 

// One of us deserves to sleep in, anyway… //  

He couldn't help a wistful grin as he remembered just what had kept them up so late in the first place.  As wonderful as their games had been before, he hadn't expected anything quite as soul-satisfying as what he had finally allowed.  Holding onto his silver-haired lover definitely fell into the category of 'playing with fire.' It made him remember the strange morning he had awoken to find his pain mysteriously gone, replaced with something he still couldn't put into words. The general looked at his hand for a moment, realizing that it hadn't been that long ago that simply getting out of bed had been a daily ordeal. 

// And then I woke up… with him… and I felt like… well rather like this… // 

Reaching out a hand, he hesitantly touched the silky mass of hair. Energized and yet peaceful, he felt like he could take on anything. He shook his head, realizing the foolishness of the thought. 

// This is all his fault… //

"See what you do to me?" His whisper got no reply, Masa wasn't about to wake up for anything less than a bombardment. Something in the curl of the slender fingers caught his eye. He freed the appendage from its tangle of sheets, carefully turning it palm-up into the light. Laro felt a little guilty at peeking, knowing his lover was stubborn about revealing the injury. He couldn't help be a little worried. Looking down at the still-red line of injured skin, the soldier frowned slightly. Somehow he expected it to have healed further then it had.

// Maybe it's just a trick of the light… //

The general ran a thumb over the puckered scab with a sigh before tucking the slender man back into the bed. "Sleep well, kitten."

*****

The small column of soldiers and trucks had come to its weary end in the fields just beyond the small city, joining the camp already sprawling over the long grass.  There was an unmistakable feeling of joy from the tired troops. After over a year out beyond the sight of civilization many of the hardened veterans looked longingly at the bustling market, waiting their turn to go into the city and be ordinary men again. College doctors were already moving among the tents, checking the wounded and carrying the most severe cases back to the city with them. 

Gerrick watched the transport truck as it slowly crawled it way up to the castle. Its burden of injured men and medics tolerated the noisy ride without complaint. The morning was getting late. He scrubbed a hand through his hair and idly realized that he could take a bath before having to present himself at court. The novelty of being clean was enough to make him smile.  It had been along time since either he or his men had had water enough to spare for things like a good long soak. Tired as his troops were, they still remembered to salute as he walked by one last time, checking, re-checking that camp was in order.  When he had left the city he had been one of them, just another Lieutenant fresh out of training. He wasn't stupid enough to forget that. 

The thought made him look up at the castle again, wondering if the rumors were true. There had been no official word yet, but whispers traveled through the army about the return of a hero. His lip curled slightly at the idea.  

// … The Great Kai has finally recovered… //

// Just what the war needs, a has-been. //

He kept his opinion to himself as he greeted the other officers and turned over the watch of his camp.  He had wasted enough time. It was time to greet his king and receive his orders. 

***** 

"You remember how we discovered that the shards were power magnifiers?"

"Yeah… vaguely… I remember you had been working on a new weapon using them…" The general scratched his chin as he walked along side the Dean. As tall as a man, her long legs could cover a lot of ground when she wanted them to.

"Well the initial models have been in the field for a while now, Ibat's army has over one hundred… the strength of the energy beam is in direct proportion to the size of the shard… but we've been trying to even that out a bit…"

"I see…" Laro nodded. "I remember some of those shards I recovered towards the end were mighty big though… you broke them up?"

"Some… but the others we've been… saving… we were having trouble, you see, in getting the proper focus for the beam over the larger surfaces."  Finlay held the door open, ushering him into a courtyard where a large machine on treads stood waiting for them.

"Hello… what is this?"

"Over the past weeks we've had something of a breakthrough, theoretically… and /this/ is the result."

"… looks like a cannon."

"Exactly so, but it hurls energy instead of steel balls…" She patted the shinny surface. "Our initial tests show that it has at least 200 times the attacking power of the smaller models, and that is without the fine-tuning it will get before you leave…"

"I get to have it?"

"You're going to get three…" The dean gave him a long look. "Do realize however that between the three of them that you will now be responsible for the majority of shards currently in human possession… would you, Nazer-Kai?"

"Not exactly the sort of thing that can be left behind, you're saying?"

"Yes… Rather."  She tilted her head thoughtfully. "I'd be interested in hearing however, if one of these fellows has any effect in say… a direct assault on a tower however… naturally if you can retrieve further shards, we will be very grateful here at the college… useful little things really."

"Still pining after that 'perfectly intact' piece of crystal?"

"If we could just get an undamaged one, we might be able to determine how the Net is constructed… maybe pull it down…"

"Or build me a cannon the likes of which god has never seen…" 

"Indeed." The dean sighed, "You'll be wanting to hear about the weight and mobility and the like, I'll get one of the students to give you all the papers."

Leaving the dark man to pace around his new toy, she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her coat and went to fetch the engineers.  She has meant to tell him, but it had seemed silly to mention it. Surely the Kai already knew that the cannon and the rest of the strides the college had made were all because of his impossibly clever lover. He had seemed surprised at the weapon however, genuinely unaware that large assault cannon was possible. She wondered again just how much Mr. Kuja told his guardian about what he did in the college every day. Dean Finlay felt a little guilty at her part the unintended deception. The general often asked her how his companion was spending his time. She had just always given some simple answer, assuming that the man would know what 'research' meant.  

Shrugging she rested in a convenient shadow as she watched her students flock to the Kai and demonstrate how to activate and steer the large weapon across the courtyard. He seemed more than willing to leave all the credit for the machine in their hands, and watching him she realized that everyone else would likely do the same.  It wasn't right. Resolved to bring the issue up with the inventor himself, she ducked back into a classroom.  

"You, you're one of the heat-equation boys… where is Mr. Kuja?" A senior researcher looked up from his model building with a jerk, surprised at the sudden question.

"He usually doesn't come until after lunch…"

"When he does, tell him I'd like to see him."

***** 

Kuja woke to find someone, probably Laro, had sent up a breakfast tray. He frowned, not remembering anyone coming in. He couldn't even remember waking up for his lover's departure.  Given how tired he felt, it wasn't that much of a surprise.  His body ached insistently, the sour flavor in his throat also a reminder that all was not as it should be.  Somehow the cat-man navigated himself to the small table, feeling much better after he had swallowed the majority of the juice, and began making inroads in the tea. Fluids were easier to deal with by far then the rest of the little breakfast. Deciding to be daring, he risked a slice of toast. Mornings were the hardest, whenever he could he tried to simply not eat at all. It was easier to wait until lunch when he felt more settled, or at the least half starved. By then the risk of being ill was out weighed by the simple fact that if he didn't eat he would probably pass out. He had never been a heavy eater, so long as he had one decent meal a day he refused to worry too much. Between the experiments at the college, the intrigues at court, and the grim countdown until Laro's departure he mused that he had more than enough stress to justify the occasional nausea.

// The problem with sending me a tray… is that I'm obliged to eat /something/ or else people will worry… //  

It would be difficult to explain why he had ignored a perfectly good breakfast in his room to forage for himself down in the dining halls.  If there was one thing he still missed about his old secluded palace under the desert, it was that the clockwork servants never gossiped behind his back. In reality, there would have been no one for them to gossip to, even if they had the desire. He had always been alone there.

// Well except that time that Zidane's little friends tore through the place like a plague… but that was inevitable I suppose. //

Choosing not to think of the past, he moved to start his day as best he could. Questions about Gaia, even questions about last night and whether it had matched the soldier's expectations, would find no answers today. As usual he was left to his own devices while Laro planned for battle. He couldn't help but feel run-down even as he walked the quiet halls to his habitual morning meetings. The knock was formality, but it gave him a moment to pull his thoughts out of their sleepy haze. He nodded to the servant that held open the door and stepped inside the sunny room.

"Good morning, my lord."

"Almost afternoon, Mr. Kuja… and you still look tired. Are you ill?"

"Perhaps a little, your grace… I stayed up later than usual last night." His smile came easily as he found his rhythm for the day.  Spending the morning as companion to the elderly duke was an enjoyable way of seeing life at court. The sharp-eyed man was a pleasure to watch at work and for his part seemed happy to have an appreciative audience for his master manipulations.  

Despite the old noble's complaints about the hour, Kuja saw that he too was just finishing his breakfast, or perhaps it was brunch. More alike than either of them would admit, the duke never seemed terribly keen on early meals. If anything, he kept later hours then Laro, carefully managing the court and the politics of war until well into the night. The genome wondered if the old man simply didn't sleep sometimes, it was impossible to say.  Leaning over the small sideboard, he helped himself to a bunch of grapes. 

"Has the army arrived?"

"Very late last night… but in good shape and all accounted for. Tea, Mr. Kuja?" 

"Please." Amused by the top most of the scattered reports on the coffee table, he settled into a corner of the couch to read. He spared a smile for the servant when a cup and saucer were set near by. "… Cornel Gerrik will get his promotion after all… although I doubt it'll soften the blow…"

"He'll be formally debriefed before the council in an hour or so… I would be interested in your insights if you could spare the time to attend…"

"You know I am always at your complete disposal, your grace."

"Ah, flatterer…" The old man smiled in amusement. "No wonder why the Kai keeps you close by."

"I do not flatter Laro… He finds it… uncomfortable." Kuja traded one war report for another, rapidly catching up with his friend. "His general fault seems to be 'honesty' after all… My poor Nazer-Kai is not an excellent liar."

"No, that is not a skill we've ever been able to beat into him." The duke smiled again. "Not for lack of trying, mind you…"

"I should have liked to have seen /that/…" His teasing comment earned him another laugh.

"Enough of troops, Mr. Kuja, those decisions are already made by king and council… if you would consider the two reports about the merchant houses and unfair competition however, I would be open to a suggestion… for my part I'm inclined to just fine both sides and be done with it."

"That is likely the best solution, but I can see if I can divine if are other possibilities…" 

***** 

The debriefing went better than he could have hoped. He looked around the half circle of lords and army advisors for any clue that they were displeased with his performance. All the wounded men made it back to the capital, and ahead of schedule, they couldn't have anything to complain about.  

The cornel had been surprised to note that Nazer-kai was not present. Rumors had been confirmed as soon as he had arrived at the castle. The new companies preparing for departure, and any veterans returning to the front would do so under the general's banner.  It wasn't his first choice to serve the 'war hero', but he was pragmatic enough to know that it would likely be little different from serving under Ibat-kai. The man had to have /some/ talent, or he would have never been appointed 'kai' in the first place. The question was, had any of that skill remained after a year of isolation from the war.

"Cornel Clay Gerrik…"

"Yes sir." He noticed for the first time as he saluted that there was a stranger seated in the Duke Riquoi's shadow. Almost feminine in his beauty, he was probably just another of the old man's secretaries.  The pale courtier was still enough to almost distract him as the duke began to speak. He forced his mind back on business.

"… As is your due after the last three campaigns, it is our pleasure to inform you that you will be receiving a promotion."

"… I will…? I mean, thank you, your grace." 

The old man's smile held no joy in it. "You are now a general, sir… Only one star, but it is a position of respect… and as such you will be reassigned to duties here at the capital of strategic importance to the army's future well being."

// … reassigned… to the capital? //  He blinked, too stunned to believe it. // I'm not going back out…? //

"It's quite fortunate for you, that this position opened up… most men would kill for the chance to stay where things are civilized…"

// … That's ridiculous… I'm no bureaucrat… Am I being punished...? //

He found himself saluting again, formality dictating that he could say nothing but acceptance to the unwanted duties. All he could do was watch as the statesman leaned back a little and murmured to his secretary.  The new general felt ill at how he was being shifted around, an unwanted piece on the board. Clay couldn't help but speak up, knowing he would be scolded. "With all do respect, your grace… Nazer-kai will need all the veteran officers he can muster… I /know/ the land… the movements of the enemy… wouldn't I be more useful…"

"Are you volunteering for another trip to the front, General Gerrik?"

"… yes sir?"

"Only madmen, zealots, or glory-hounds willfully through themselves into danger when instructed not to, general… which are you?"

The rest of the council was frozen, obviously taking their lead from the old nobleman. Even the king wouldn't look him in the eye, choosing instead to fuss with his sleeve instead. "… none, your grace… I just…"

"I understand the need to be useful, general. Please have a little patience, your time will come."  
  


"Yes sir."

Knowing a dismissal when he heard one, he bowed and left the stuffy room. His stomach twisted in sour, angry knots. Experience and commitment apparently meant nothing in the face of the Great Kai's cult-of-personality. He was to be quietly brushed aside to make room for the higher-ranked general's return to the Line. The chance to finally prove himself was never going to come. Clay clenched his jaw, refusing to believe that he could be relegated to the sidelines so easily. 

// Damn them… It's not fair! //

Turning the corner only to be confronted with the Great Kai himself, the soldier almost swore. Luckily no one noticed his arrival. The group of officers only had eyes for their commander, ignoring him completely. The dark general was talking calmly about reorganizing the supply lines, his back to the shadow that Clay had slipped into.  For a crazy minute, he wanted to somehow reach out and /hurt/ the man, at least call out and tell him what an imposter he was. Keeping his anger in check, he chose instead to keep walking, venting his frustrations by getting lost in the twisting halls of the castle and college.

// Can't go back to the camp, it's not mine any more… they've probably already assigned me a room here… bastards. //

The new emblem on his chest hung heavy on the fabric. Looking down he marveled that it was still the small silver twist that marked him as his new rank. It might as well have been a badge marking him a leper.

***** 

The 'testing' courtyard, unlike the others around the college was unpaved. Instead of brick or marble there was just well beaten dirt. Kuja looked at the various ruts and scorch marks and could easily guess why. The area had obviously seen the worst of some of the large experiments the students worked on.  Given the weapons he had helped the scientists construct, it was no wonder that the courtyard didn't have a back-wall. The narrow yard opened directly onto a fenced in bit of field, just as scorched as the rest of the area.

Feeling tired, he settled himself on a convenient crate as the engineers wheeled their greatest 'treasure' into the center of the yard. The sight of it still gave him chills. Easily seven feet at the top, the inky black shell was held in place with a rough iron frame work. Much like Laro's armor it seemed to have life even when nothing more than chitin and wire. There were strange holes along the top and sides, places for the absent head and limbs to attach to the body. Some brave soldier had defeated the monstrous drone in such a way as to leave the carapace intact. The shell was hollow now. A hollow target for the new weapons the college was inventing. Should they succeed in damaging the thick surface, another piece could be wired onto the frame to take its place. 

He had seen the storeroom where the extras were kept, getting a feel for the first time what it would be like to stand surrounded by the giant insects. It was no wonder his friend wasn't looking forward to returning to the battle. Even dead there was an air of menace about the Selwe. Kuja rubbed his face, forcing himself to stay awake. Lunch had come and gone in the duke's company. He wondered if Laro had remembered to eat.

"Mr. Kuja, should we start the test?" Shaking him from his daze, the voice made him look over as the complex array of mirrors and fuel was set into position.

"All set then?"  He didn't have the heart to tell them that their new energy weapon would likely have no effect. The aliens seemed perfectly adapted to high temperatures.  His students were insistent that their new equations were able to produce more heat than ever, and disagreeing would have taken more commitment than he was willing to muster. 

They would do a few tests, but he knew that the shell wasn't going to show any changes. The best that could be hoped for the weapon would be that in the field it would manage to cook what was inside the shell, and there was precious little chance of proving /that/ outside of combat.  Kuja watched them do their final aiming before waving them ahead. 

"Fire at will, or something."

Less flashy then the other prototypes, there was little visible in the way of 'attack' from the make-shift cannon. It was faster to warm-up then the others, but that was really the best he could say for it. For a long minute they watched as the air around the black shell shivered with heat. Just at he suspected the armor itself was singularly un-reactive. Heat wasn't the answer they were looking for. Not on the scale that the college was able to produce at any rate.

// … I could introduce the idea of atomic energy… but that's a recipe for disaster. //

His history lessons from Terra had given him a healthy respect for the amount of damage careless tinkering with matter could result in. The Terrans had gone from primitive energy-harnessing to actually altering the nature of reactive metals, gradually tying science and magic in new and more destructive ways. One of the outgrowths of their knowledge was the ability to merge worlds; another had been the magic 'Ultima' which used to reside beneath Kuja's fingertips. 

// The power to shatter the very bones of the universe… maybe it's better that it stays sealed off… //

He wondered idly if his brother or sister also knew the secret, or if it was truly his alone. With most of Terra's wisdom destroyed, there would not be a chance for anyone else to discover the nature of the spell. Not that Zidane needed it his own attacks were powerful enough.

// And their power came from the Crystal, not from the chaos of the void… To think… I almost cause the end of everything…It's a wonder it let me live. //

The Crystal's motivations were inexplicable, as were Zidane's. Giving up, Kuja watched as his disappointed students shut down their device. It was easier to stay seated and let them do the poking and prodding of their target. They would call him if they saw anything of interest.

"It's… really hot!"  Two of the more adventurous engineers were able to get within a few feet of the shell, shielding their faces with their sleeves as the inspected it. The rest stood a healthy distance back. 

The cat-man was impressed, but not enough to move. "Someone have a thermometer? Are there any signs of cracks or peeling?"

"No… the carapace is still intact… pity that."

"Try and take a reading, and then I think we're done for the day."

"Yes sir…" Disappointed, the group set about dismantling their weapon, leaving the shell alone to cool off.

"We should have put a bucket of water in between the shells and seen how hot the center got…" Several of the young men nodded in agreement. The opportunity had passed for today, but they could always try again. 

He stood up, stretching in preparation of following the prototype back to the design hall when several of the students tromped past with buckets.  Tired enough that it took a moment to understand their intent, Kuja only had enough time to think to utter a warning before the men lazily splashed the water onto the scorching hot surface. Instead of boiling into steam, the fluid vanished with a sound akin to an explosion. Thick shell shattered like broken glass as a gust of hot air bloomed outwards catching students, splinters of chitin, buckets, benches and crates up hard against the walls.  

***** 

"Dean Finlay…" The urgent interruption caught the gray-haired woman before she could reply to his greeting. Laro turned, curious to see the harried looking student so far his usual haunts. State dinners were usually tediously formal affairs and avoided by the younger researchers if it could be helped. 

"What."

"… There's been an accident…"

"What?" Forgetting what ever scolding she had been about to say, the dean set down her drink. "Where?"

"Testing ground two, one of the dummies Mr. Kuja's team was working on /exploded/…"

"Exp… impossible… Is anyone hurt?"

// … 'Masa's group' since when did he have a group? //

"Four, including Mr. Kuja… someone else is getting the doctor but he wanted to speak to you… said it was urgent…"

Laro didn't wait for her reply, already moving past them to move quickly to the door. Finlay swore a remarkably unlady like oath and followed as quickly as was polite in the crowd. "Make excuses for us."

 Fidgeting nervously with his scorched robe, the student gingerly began searching for the Duke.

*****

// What's gone and set fire to /his/ boots… //

Deliberately seeking the peace and quiet at the edge of the crowded room, the young general was in a perfect position to see the Kai's sudden departure. Curious, he waited until the dean had passed him as well before moving to follow. The gossip at court was interesting, but this seemed more important. Nazer-kai had always been something of an eccentric among the warlords. It only seemed to have gotten worse since his return. 

// Walking out on meetings, hand picking his officers, jumping at shadows… and what is this about talking a /boy/ courtesan for his lover…? Shameful… criminal even… and we trust this man to 'save' us? Ridiculous… //

He picked his way easily through the college's burrow-like sections, remembering his own time as a student well enough. After the first few turns he could guess where they were going, and it only made him wonder more. Such hurry over the testing grounds could only mean some amazing breakthrough, or a substantial accident had just taken place.

// Or knowing the engineers, a little of both… //  

The smell of scorched shell was startling so far from the front lines. It reminded him of what he was giving up even as it made him cough and shield his face. He took only a minute to appreciate the way the heavy oak doors had been blown inwards, the latch broken to splinters by the force of whatever had taken place outside. Clay bent to pick up a shard of what was unmistakably a Selwe's armored outer-skin, only to halt himself. Inches away, the heat was enough to scald his fingers. He nudged it with a boot instead, noting it was embedded deep enough into the doorframe as to not budge under the gentle pressure.

// … interesting… //

He took his time to look around, noticing the windswept look of the yard. Mentally he tallied up the fragments of shell until he could believe that an entire target dummy was either scattered about the small space or blown into the field beyond. A pair of doctors was already at work on one of the students. The other two seemed merely stunned, resting against the wall and looking around as if trying to puzzle out what had just happened. Nazer-kai and the dean were helping a fourth victim upright, the general all but cradling the smaller man as the woman questioned him.

Even with the dirt and bloody nose, there was something familiar about the battered scholar.  The soldier blinked, recognizing the incredibly pale colored hair – now in wild disarray – as being the same as the rumors, and the same as the stranger's from the council session. He swore, realizing that the secretary, the scientist, and the Kai's scandalous paramour were all one and the same.

// /That/ is Kuja…? //

There was no mistaking the careful way the older general held the man. It would have been touching if it had been a girl. For a moment he wondered if maybe 'Mr. Kuja' wasn't a girl in disguise after all. The question of why anyone would bother begged to be asked.  

Whatever the man was saying, it did seem to get the dean's attention. Finlay listened for several minutes before getting up to make her own inspection of the shell, or what was left of it. Clay shook his head, making himself useful by hauling the two scratched students upright and following the first doctor back to the hospital wing. He had seen enough to satisfy momentary curiosity; to stay longer would force him to justify how he had found out about the accident.

// Just who /are/ you… Kuja… and what is /your/ part in all of this… are you the duke's pawn? The Kai's toy? The dean's pet? And why is it that nobody seems to know where you come from… How ironic if the general's pretty little page turns out to be a  spy… //

*****

*****

ah sweet politics…

-Lunar 


	14. Holding Nothing Back for Yourself

**Feather Flight: Holding nothing back for yourself (part 14)**

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

*************************   

"It's time, Kai…"

"I know…" The large man made no sign that he was moving. His eyes and his attention never left the man in the secluded hospital bed. 

"You should go." Bruised but still stubborn, his injured partner untangled his fingers from the soldier's hand, giving him a gentle shove to encourage him. "I'll be out of here by the afternoon, although I don't know if I'll be showing my face at court any time soon."

Dean Finlay shifted on her perch slightly, making room for the Duke to lean on the shelf as well. The old man was watching the pair by the bed with unabashed curiosity. Kuja fumbled again for his little mirror, grimacing at the black eye that one of the bouncing shards had given him. Apparently he was made of sterner stuff then any of them had anticipated. Only a day later and he was already yearning to be back on his feet and working. The general was not happy with his decision.

"You're going to rest, at least today?"

"I rested all yesterday. I'm fine Laro, a little worse for the wear perhaps, but only superficial structural damage." The silver haired man looked to the duke, who nodded in return. "… Your war awaits sir… I don't want to be the one who made you late."

"To hell with it."

"/Laro/." The sharp criticism brooked no disobedience. Finlay couldn't help but smirk at the way the taller man cringed.  She no longer had any doubts about who exactly was the dominant in her friend's relationship. It was almost a pity that Kuja wouldn't be going to the front as well. More than anyone else, he seemed to have the knack of drawing the best out of their hesitant commander. 

// Nazer was always a little too soft hearted for a soldier… but on the field he's a man who knows his business… if he'll only /go/…"

"Mr. Kuja is right, Nazer-kai… your army awaits. The timing of this accident has been unfortunate, I grant you, but Kuja will be well cared for whether you are here or not."

The dark skinned man frowned, knowing he had no choice. Turning back to his partner he reclaimed a hand, gripping it tightly. "No more experiments…"

"… I have no interest in getting hurt again, Laro, if that's what you mean."

"/Promise/ me…"

Kuja sighed. "Very well. I promise sincerely that /I/ will no longer conduct any dangerous experiments."

"Thank you…"

Biting his lip, the injured man didn't relinquish his own grip, even when the soldier stood up. "… promise me you'll come back?" 

"… I promise." Responding to the fear in the strangled whisper, Laro stooped down to place a last kiss on the top of his head. "Be good."

The comment earned him a snort, but he didn't stay to see whether it was laughter or something else. Nodding at the two chancellors as he went, the general left to join his troops. He didn't look back. Finlay sighed into the empty room. She couldn't think of anything to say to ease the tense mood, didn't know if she even had the right to try.

"Nothing good ever lasts."

"Excuse me?"  The pale man's sour comment caused her to blink, looking to the duke to see if he understood the cynical comment. The old man simply shrugged.

"Kuja?"

"Peace is but a shadow of death after all… and the season of destruction has come again." He smiled coldly to himself, setting the mirror aside. His pale hair cloudlike as it concealed his face he tucked his chin to his chest, shutting out the world. "Nothing ever changes… not even here."

"I don't understand." Duke Riquoi settled on the edge of the bed, unconsciously taking the general's place. "Man hasn't even left yet, who's to say if our new army will do worse than the old ones. They're better trained, better armed, and we have months of gathered intelligence on our side. There's no reason to be so hopeless… not for another month or two yet…"

As changeable as sunlight on water, Kuja shook his head. His dark mood pushed aside. Reaching out he patted the old statesman on the hand and flashed a small smirk at him and the Dean. "Doesn't matter… you're right. So long as we remain ourselves, we can boast some small victory… Tell me Professor… what of the wreckage of my little team… do you see the point I was trying to make?"

Smiling at the change of topic, Finlay joined the two men on the bed, claiming the corner opposite the duke. "I'm amazed you managed to think of something like that after being hit in the head with a crate."

"I'm more resilient then I look."

"Indeed." She reached out to gently ruffle his hair. "Curious little fellow, are those glued in?" 

Kuja batted her hand away before she could tug on one of his feathers in order to investigate. "Leave my hair out of it woman. We're talking about fundamental weaknesses of your enemies…"

"They're insects."

"Exactly. This means what?"

"That they've got built-in armor so you have to aim for the joints?" Joining in on the conversation, the nobleman leaned on his hands. "But we know this already… as well as their aversion to salt water, and extreme cold…"

"Think bigger, my friends…what is the one biggest failing of all insects?"

"They don't have individuals."

"Good, and another?" He looked askance at both of them, but they had no answer. "They cannot cope with drastic change! The cold, and the water, these are symptoms… you see? The Selwe like hot arid climates, they're designed to function best in them… hence they create desert wherever they expand to…"

"… We thought they were doing that as an attack against us… burning us out, so to speak…" Riquoi was entertained by the new idea. "If it isn't spite, but necessity… how is this useful to us?"

The pale man shrugged. "It means you could do worse than retreating to where there is snow if you had to… it also means… we have the potential for doing a great deal of damage if we can take my experiment and apply it across a wide area."

"It's not the heat that stops them, but the sudden change from cold to hot…"

"Or hot to cold… your energy weapons work because they heat one small section of shell completely out of proportion to the rest, so it expands, and cracks… likewise, the heads and joints have less armor so the weakness is enhanced."

"Sudden attacks… " 

"Over a wide area… Chemical weapons might also be possible, but they would likely be toxic to people too…" Kuja leaned back against his pillows. "Maybe infection… but that would be dangerous…"

"What about electrical?" The duke pondered quietly. "When I was a boy… I remember watching a mage summon a lighting bolt the size of an oak tree down out of the sky on demand… That used to set the bugs running…"

"Again, it would be a matter of contrast, if the location was good, and they were unprepared… yes, a large voltage would do damage…"

"No good." The dean vetoed the idea. "Without magic there is no way we can build a sustainable weapon for something like that… the fuel it would need would be impractical, not to mention the size of the dynamo…" 

"Very well… but in any case… if the recent experiment is any sign, it would be interesting to see what would happen if we could somehow combine that little heat-ray with a water gun…"

"Water is rather heavy to have to carry around…"

"You'll think of something, my dear, I have no doubts…" The duke stood and slowly stretched. "I for one am getting to old for this nonsense. I pray it will be over soon."

Finlay simply nodded. "Get some rest, Mr. Kuja… we'll collect you for dinner, there should be no complaints with you leaving by then."

"I should hope not, this place is rather tedious." Waving a hand around at his tiny little room, he allowed himself a bored sigh. "Back to my nap I suppose."

Kuja made a show of settling himself into the bed for his friends benefit, but once they were gone he couldn't help but stay awake. Fragments of rhymes and stories drifted through his head as he watched the ceiling, nothing bringing comfort for his loneliness. 

"The only dependable thing about the future is uncertainty…"

The words sounded hollow in the little room. Something about them made him feel uncomfortable. He couldn't remember where he had heard the expression, maybe from Zidane, or one of the nobles of Treno. It wasn't something that inspired confidence. He hated not knowing what would happen. It was why he had spent his life always planning, plotting out every possible branching the future could hold. In the end it had been a futile process, too many random elements that he couldn't have taken into account, most of them having to do with his infuriatingly footloose sibling. Zidane barely planed ahead enough to know how he could pay for his next meal, much less anything more ambitious. It was rather unfair how easily he unwound the years of work.

 // If… //

// If I were Zidane… I would follow after him… whether he wanted me to or not… //

He smiled bitterly.

// But I am not Zidane… so why even try and pretend that I am…? //

*************************   

Clay pretended interest in the conversations around him, attending his third official dinner in so many weeks. The young general made sure to smile at all the right moments, but his mind was elsewhere. Stories of the Kai and his first victory on the Line were not what he needed right now. They only served to remind him that it was /his/ army out in the field, /his/ men fighting to take back another few miles of land. He had no doubts that the warlord would next turn his attention to claming yet another tower, following Ibat-kai's lead in trying to clear a zone of land where the Selwe could not penetrate. 

// Clear sky… a hole in the net big enough to fit an army under… or even a country… a small one… and you could look up… and see clear sky… // 

Even if he wasn't proud of the Kai, he was proud of his men. It was a small but crucial difference.  The thought only reminded him of his current hobby, a little task that kept him entertained whenever he wasn't busy with official business.

Craning his head slightly as if stretching, he caught sight of the familiar silver-white flash of braid. Mr. Kuja was still speaking quietly with a set of guild members, illustrating his point with occasional elegant gestures. It was easy to keep him just in sight, studying him as he went about his business unawares.  So far his research hadn't revealed anything truly remarkable about the delicate man, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something not quite right. The general returned to his conversation, only making his excuses when the courtesan moved out of sight. 

Maneuvering through the glittering crowds took a little time, but standing where Kuja had a moment before, he could spot him once again. Seated beside the duke, the pale man's smile was flirtatious. Clay grimaced at the thought. There were some things he really didn't want to know about. Looking around for a distraction, he noted that the man had abandoned both his glass of wine, and small collection of snacks to be collected by a servant. Neither item looked as though it had been taken seriously even with the long reception before dinner. Kuja didn't seem hungry. Telling his own stomach to be patient, the soldier smiled grimly. 

// Picky eater are we, Mr. Kuja? //  From what he could tell, the slender man had skipped lunch as well.

// Or maybe he starves himself to maintain his delicacy… I've known female courtesans who did much the same… //    

It was a mystery and like all mysteries he felt confident that when he had gathered enough evidence, he would unravel it. He would find out something about the courtesan that would turn public-opinion against him, and maybe against Nazer-kai as well. No one was a good as they pretended to be. There was no such thing as a real hero.

// I'm watching you, Mr. Kuja… eventually I'll know all of your secrets… //

When the call to dinner was finally made, he made sure to sit as close as he could to the important nobles at the head of the table. The courtesan was dining in his usual place beside the duke. Carefully sandwiched between the old statesman and the sour-faced college dean, he was well protected. Clay watched him, making mental note of who he talked to, who he flirted with, what he ate. It was more interesting then talking to the newlyweds to his left, and they seemed to prefer their own company.

Keeping watch as he was, it was easy for the soldier to guess the meaning when after dinner the slender man whispered something in his friend's ear and stood to leave. It wasn't uncommon for people to retire early from the long dinners. Slipping into the shadows beyond the long tables, Kuja followed his pattern from every evening before, slipping back to his rooms while the young men of the court settled in for more serious gaming and drinking. The dean slid over, claiming the empty seat to continue her discussion with the ancient duke. No one noticed when Clay briefly smiled at his neighbors and made his own excuses.

*************************   

There weren't that many paths to take between the banquet hall and the residential wing. Clay hadn't been fast enough to see which staircase the courtesan had taken, but it was a safe bet that if the man was tired, he'd take the easiest path possible. The fact that it would also be the quietest route would only make it more appealing. Pausing at the end of the hall, he ducked behind a convenient drape and took a look.  A little ways down, the hall way opened up into a sort of mezzanine, catching the breeze from the evening beyond.  Kuja was resting against the stonework, unaware that he was being watched. 

If he had wanted to confront the pallid man, it would have been the perfect opportunity. The soldier found himself watching instead, waiting to see what he would do when left to himself. Unfortunately the silent moment was broken by heavy footsteps on the staircase at the other end of the hall. Clay recognized the new arrival as one of the King's distant cousins, and a rather drunk one at that.

// A secret assignation…? I don't know if it's scandal worthy, the man /is/ a courtesan after all… but if rumors got back to Nazer-kai… or his friends, it would make his lover's stay at court a little less friendly… //

The scholar however seemed just as surprised as he was at the interruption, looking away from his balcony with a frown. Curious, the soldier moved closer, careful to keep himself unseen.

"Hullo Masa…" Not seeming to understand that he wasn't wanted, the slurring man joined the courtesan at the window.

"That is not my name." 

"It's what Nazer calls you…"

"What he does should have no bearing on you, sir." Crisp and impersonal, Kuja's scorn was obvious. The young nobleman was either too self-absorbed, or too intoxicated to care.

"… awww don't be like /that/… Not when I'm just trying to talk to you…"

"I don't feel well, good night my lord." 

The soldier raised an incredulous eyebrow. It wasn't often he witnessed such an utter brush off. Having been on the receiving end once or twice he had known when to admit defeat and try his flirting somewhere else. Kuja's companion seemed to have other ideas however. The courtesan's retreat was halted when he found himself caught by the elbow and spun around again. Furious, he glared at the hand that held him and up at his pursuer.

"Unhand me."

"Mean little thing, aren't you… Is that how Nazer likes them? With a little fight in them?" The nobleman shook his captive to emphasize his question. "You look even prettier when mad, gorgeous… and I really don't care about the price. Whatever it is, I'll pay…"

"You…" Blue-eyes flashed with rage, but whatever he was about to say was halted, reconsidered. 

"Me?" Seeming to think he had scored a victory, the well-dressed lord bent down as if to steal a kiss. He was halted by a firm hand on his chest.

"For a man of your quality sir, there is no amount that could possibly be enough." The courtesan's heel snapped down sharply on the taller man's foot, causing him to release his hold in surprise.  Kuja wasted no time, walking quickly away.  

For his part, the young general could only smirk at the interplay. His original desire to sniff out a scandal had been momentarily put aside in favor of watching the stuck-up courtier get what he deserved.  Nazer-kai's lover had balls, he gave the man that much. He hadn't expected such loyalty from the small scholar. It was something he would need to add to his notes.

"And where do you think you're going?" Not as drunk as he originally seemed, the young lord stopped hopping and quickly moved to recapture his prey. This time instead of holding for the silver-haired man he chose to simply grab him by the collar, hauling him off balance and into the wall. Clay stood up, surprised. An illicit affair was one thing to witness, outright assault was something else. The courtesan's pained cry wasn't loud enough to bring a guard, and with the banquet in full swing it was unlikely that anyone else would come along in time to stop things from getting out of hand.

"Let go…" There was only anger in the soft voice. 

Expecting fear or at least tears, the nobleman looked down in surprise. "Or you'll do what?"

"Whatever I have to…" When the tall man stooped for his kiss this time, he was met with a stinging slap. The general didn't really want to see how far the drunkard would take it, striding down the hall to intercept as Kuja wrestled with his attacker. He was about to reach out to pull the man off, when the courtesan managed to suddenly free an arm, and lunged forward, pushing the larger man off balance. Two graceful jabs later, he used the nobleman's furious momentum against him, catching by ankle and belt and sending him tumbling into one of the ornamental potted plants. The pedestal and fern crashed down around the courtier with a loud crash.

// If the guards didn't hear /that/… they're not just asleep, they're dead. //

Seeing that Kuja was no worse than flustered, he bent to investigate the loser of the fight. The man had knocked his head badly against the planter, but had gotten no worse than he deserved. When he came to his ego would be the most damaged thing about him.

// Still… the little thing is stronger than he looks… // 

The guards were jogging up the stairs, but even with the commotion the pale man remained calm. He was carefully checking his sleeve for rips, knotting off broken strands of embroidery before they pulled out further. 

"You alright?"

"Yes…" Seeming to notice him for the first time, the courtesan smiled at him. He looked justifiably tired and strained. "… It seems I am in your debt."

"But I…"  The guard captain, having overheard looked at the three of them, courtesan, noble and soldier, and sighed in annoyance.

"Mr. Kuja, General Gerrik… I'm sorry that this… /gentleman/ has caused you any trouble. I trust sir that you'll want to personally see Mr. Kuja escorted safely back to his quarters?"

// He thinks I… of course, Nazer-kai has the entire army in his back-pocket… they'll all assume I swung in to the rescue for my darling Kai's… lover. //

The word still left a sour taste in his mouth. Making sure not to show his annoyance, he stood and made a show of nudging the prone man with his foot. "See that the Duke is informed of this one's misbehavior tonight?" He looked up, noting how the courtesan was leaning against the wall again, looking as frail and defenseless as ever.

"Yes sir!"

// … Being seen as being an ally to the Kai may not be a bad thing… I'll discover more sooner if people feel they can trust me to be discrete… but why would Kuja deliberately allow them to believe that it was /I/ who felled the 'giant'… //

Deciding to leave the issue for another time, he stood up and courteously offered his arm.  It seemed Nazer's companion wanted to play the 'swooning victim' and he couldn't see why he shouldn't indulge him.  If playing little games was all it took to gain entry into the too-beautiful man's inner circle, he wasn't going to refuse. "Come sir, you look tired. Lean on me a while."

"I am in your debt, general." 

Once again he was thrown by the almost female nature of the courtesan. The man's profile was hardly masculine at all, especially when several locks of hair had been knocked loose in the fight to hang gracefully around his chin. There were dark shadows under the eyes that he had never been close enough to notice before. "Perhaps I should call you a doctor…"

"That will not be necessary…"

They paused outside the ornate door to the Kai's suite. He couldn't shake the feeling that Kuja was watching him, waiting for the question he had to ask. "… Why… back there…"

"Better you than me, don't you think?" Closing his eyes, he rested against his door. It was hard to believe that beneath the almost sickly exterior lurked strength capable of flipping a grown man to the ground.  If he hadn't seen it, he too would have assumed it had been he who had ended the fight. "I am tired…"

"You miss him."  He kicked himself, not knowing why he had spoke the way he had. It was one thing to respect your enemies, it was far more dangerous to emphasize with them. 

The courtesan smiled serenely. "Oh yes, like a missing limb… But you… You don't…"

"Me?" Clay felt cold, wondering if he too had been observed while he had spent his weeks watching.

"… No matter… I think you will find your welcome at court to be far warmer tomorrow than it has been previously…"

"Because I'll be known as a 'rescuer'…?"

"It's better than being known as the man who was left behind…"

"I guess it is, yes…" Not knowing what to say, the general bowed and left. It was unsettling to think that the debt he had hoped to claim against the silvery man was now one he owed instead.  

// … No wonder the old skeleton likes him. They're both manipulative bastards… It will be fine… This can still be turned to my advantage… //

*************************   

*************************  

mmmm, gotta respect a man named Clay.

-Lunar. 


	15. What Makes You Act the Way You Do?

**Feather Flight: ****What makes you act the way you do? (part 15)******

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

*************************   

The army broke clear of the high pass to crawl into the plains below. A dry and grit filled wind welcomed them to the front. Laro nodded to his driver, signaling the man to pull the sturdy vehicle out of the line and skirt ahead. It would take the better part of a day for the men to settle into the camp. In the mean time he could go ahead with the official wrangling that always went along with getting several thousand people all equipped and ready for the next stage of their march. Taking the random salutes in stride, he pushed into the command tent and bent to his work. In less than two days he meant to start his campaign. There was no time to waste if he wanted his movements to go undetected by their enemy's scouts. Putting nervous energy to good use, he began issuing orders and reviewing the updated reports, keeping the junior officers moving at an urgent pace to fulfill his demands.

"Sir, messages from the capital."  An unobtrusive officer slipped into the tent and was away again before the general managed to pull away from the maps. The organized chaos that was his makeshift command post bustled around him, showing no sign of stopping even though they had worked for hours.

Rubbing his eyes to bring himself back to reality, he gathered up the stack of envelopes and deftly sorted out the official items. The majority of the missives were intelligence reports or confirmations of other army necessities but tucked in the midst of the larger parcels was a rather forlorn stack of letters, tied into a careful bundle to keep them from being separated. Laro couldn't help but smile at the sight, tilting the stack to make out the familiar curling script on the address. Looking at the tired group of officers still milling around the large map, he decided he had made all the progress he could in one day. Tucking the bundle of paper into his pocket, he quietly made his excuses. 

The camp was still active, men moving to make sure that dinner and tents were ready for the new arrivals. He was surprised at how low the sun had sunk. Lunch had been forgotten and he would be lucky if he could find any dinner worth mentioning.  His assistants had expected his needs however, and arriving at his tent he was thankful for the tray of bread and cheese. Over two weeks on the roads just to get out to where he needed be, he was more than happy to sit down in a tent with the knowledge that it wouldn't just be packed up and thrown back in a truck in the morning. It gave him enough time to take a bath, for one. It also afforded him enough privacy to sit down and read his letters from home for a while. 

Laro had asked his lover in a fit of loneliness if the man would write. The pale man had only raised an eyebrow at the time, asking him if 'such things were customary' in reply. He honestly couldn't remember if he had ever gotten a straight answer to his question with the argument that followed, but the proof was in his hands. The first of the envelopes was dated the day after he left, and the next only two days later, and two days again for the third and fourth, counting through the days. Precise, even penmanship filled the pages of the short notes. His only disappointment was that the content was rather impersonal. Masa spoke of politics and court gossip, of the weather and the college, but said almost nothing of himself. He wondered as he tried to read between the lines, what the man was feeling. It was impossible to say whether or not his presence was missed at all. Laro frowned at the ego driven thought. 

// Masa just doesn't seem the sort to complain about things he can't change… He's more active about his dislikes really…  look at how he 'convinced' me to bring him as far as the city… the only thing saving me this time was the fact that he was recovering from being half blown-up! //

It took a moment's fumbling in the small travel-desk to find ink and paper, but with supplies in hand he applied himself to forming a reply. Trying to describe how things were on the road and how they would soon be in combat was a task beyond his ability. Even as he started the letter he worried that it would be too dry and 'official', another report to be sent home. The general found himself writing in almost a sort of code about things, worried that someone aside from it's recipient would attempt to read the note. Instead of mentioning his nightmares he hinted of his dreams at the hospital, almost able to hear Masa's snort of amusement at reading the bland statement and knowing what he really meant. Not for the first time he found himself wishing the man were there. He dearly missed his partner's antics and sharp wit. It only reminded him that after reading all the scholar's letters he still had no idea how his lover felt. Deciding to be plain about it, he added the question to the bottom of his note, knowing that if an answer ever came it would probably be as encoded as his own comments had been. It was worth a try.

Sealing up the letter with a sigh, he left it on the desk for one of his assistants to pack with the rest of the out-going mail and went to inspect the camp. He needed to stretch his legs, anything to keep his mind off of his plans for a few hours before trying to sleep. His dreams were bad enough already.

***** 

True to his role as sycophant, general Clay Gerrik smiled in absolute happiness at the latest menial task he had been assigned. His mouth was already parroting some amiable response to military attaché standing beside his desk, completely disengaged from the scathing quality of his thoughts. It was unreasonable to expect a /general/ a ranking officer of the army to be remotely interested in simply delivering someone's mail when a simple page would suffice. At first he had been tempted to tell the young nobleman to take his letter and insert it somewhere that was bound to be painful, but that was the 'old' Clay. The unhappy, angry, and over-looked Clay whom he had made vanish in a slight of hand even he had been surprised at. Efficient, friendly and loyal general Gerrik was more than pleased to take a letter from his Kai and carry it with all due ceremony to the man's courtesan. After all, there were ample places to secure a quiet office with letter opener, and wax for resealing the envelope between here and the silver-haired man's suite.

The fact that he was -- slightly – indebted to the courtesan for his current good standing did nothing to change his goals. Rescuer or not, pretender or not, he would find his way back to the front where he belonged. Being above a little blackmail never got anyone anywhere. 

// It's only politics… // 

His conscience twitched a little at the thought of using the delicate man as a tool for his own elevation, but it lasted only a moment. The more time he spent in the shadow of the Kai's lover the more he realized that the man was just as sharp as the Duke in his way. It was a matter of using him before he himself was used; discarded as a toy that no longer held any amusement. Slipping out of his office and 'on his way' he took the earliest opportunity, and slipped into an empty salon down the hall. 

Carefully cracking the seal he scanned the note, looking for any secret confidences, or better yet breach of military conduct, but found nothing. The note was pathetically tame for a man who was rumored to be in the throws of passion at just a look from the blue-eyed beauty. Clay shook his head and laughed. Given that he was the one reading it, he was grateful that his commanding officer seemed to be a prude. There were /some/ things about his superior that he really didn't need to learn more about. 

// Not unless he gets caught shagging half the army… then we could court martial him properly... but so long as he's discrete /that/ isn't likely to happen.  There has to be some other way to secure a field command… I'll just have to wait for my opportunity. //

A few drops of candle wax carefully repaired the damage he had made. Only satisfied when the break faded as to be invisible, he tucked the envelope back into his jacket and went in search of his quarry. Would the courtier be pleased with the bland little note, he wondered. After several weeks of hearing nothing as the army moved west, Kuja had to be feeling a little lonely. He almost pitied the man his upcoming disappointment. A love letter his note certainly wasn't. 

// It's early yet… war may loosen the man's tongue… and I certainly seem to be in a position to intercept the notes as they come in… pity I can't do the same with the letters that Kuja sends out… //

He knocked on the door of the war room, predicting that there would be no one studying the massive maps at this time of day except for the duke and his too clever protégé. Having studied the courtesan's habits almost obsessively had paid off in giving him an almost sixth-sense as to the man's whereabouts. This late in the afternoon, he was rarely anywhere but at the elderly statesman's beck and call, playing attentive audience to the old skeleton's tactical games and probably adding a few insights of his own to the mix. He had been invited along only once and had kept his mouth shut the entire time they had pondered the map for fear of betraying his surprise. It was another hidden talent to be added to the courtesan's repertoire.

Clay never failed to be impressed at how utterly the Kai's lover played the court, all delicacy and light on the outside while altogether something else underneath. The reminder that this too they had in common only grated on him, making him fidget as he waited at the door. He managed not to sound to upset when the cadet finally arrived only to say the two men had already gone. There was nothing for it but to go looking for them.

***** 

Her carefully structured grid had developed a weakness. The Queen tilted her head in considering the latest problem. A three-dimensional projection of the world beneath her ship -- a roughly circular shape made of pieced-together geometries -- was spun on its access to reveal a fairly sizable zone of nothingness. It had happened before and been corrected, and looked like it would have to be fixed again. The natives were troublesome in that sense. 

One of her advisors hissed softly at her side, plaintively wondering if the northern continent was really worth the bother when they could settle their ships elsewhere and ignore it for another time. Supplies were running low for a prolonged delay in space to continue the battle. Checking her numbers, she refused. If they were to start their colony she wanted to know that they would be safe. The warm-blooded animals would have to be removed or they would remain a threat to her and her eggs. Running her first pair of feet over the projection above the table she spun the hologram again, zooming in on a region several panels away from the empty zone. Pinpointing a location, she activated the communication turret and found the mind of her Monitor. 

Her proxy in battle, the highly developed drone was both intelligent enough and clever enough to have a distinct personality, making him easy to hear above the background chatter of her army. The Monitor spoke the required greetings and received his orders without comment, something in the flavor of his thoughts implying that he had been only awaiting her command before interfering in the matter of the missing Towers. She took the opportunity to re-tally his forces, calculating that another shipment of eggs would be in order to bolster his attack before releasing the connection to allow him to return to work. He was an able Monitor – had been since shortly after his hatching – she had every confidence that he would report back on the situation with good results while she continued her efforts from above. 

Something had changed. She decided as she spun the diagram again, studying the dead spot in her map. First the meteorite which had refused to burn to ash in the atmosphere, but instead struck the ocean, and now the unusual successes of the natives against her colonial forces. There was something about the situation that made her antenna tingle with uncertainty, but she wasn't sure why. All she knew was that something had changed; an unexpected input to her perfectly orderly calculations. It was only a matter of finding what it was and neutralizing it before the warm-bloods pressed their advantage further.

She had technology, the Net, her army at her disposal. All the advantages were hers and she intended to use them.

***** 

If there was one person at court who showed a refreshing lack of trust in him, it was the Riquoi. The general bowed respectfully to the old duke before turning to do his duty with a smile. He could feel the nobleman's sharp eyes on him, studying his movements and reactions as he presented his delivery to it's startled audience. Kuja was either oblivious to the skeletal man's displeasure, or was flaunting it deliberately as he returned the polite smile with one of his own. The expression practically smoldered with lazy sensuality. Even knowing exactly where his preferences lay, Clay had to concede that the courtesan was a man who knew his trade. If not for the simple distinction of gender Kuja could have had any man at court eating out of his hand. But if the rumors were to be believed gender was certainly no barrier when it came to the silvery-haired man's admirers anyway.  Playing along, he wished aloud that the letter contained good tidings from the front, and made small talk with the reclining courtier until finally even the duke seemed to surrender to the inevitable.

Watching the older man make his excuses and depart, the general wondered if that hadn't been Kuja's intention all along. Studying the lithe figure on the bench, he felt suddenly nervous as to the courtesan's intentions. Listing to gossip was one thing, being the object of it was quite something else.

// I mean there's flirting… and then there's… but he wouldn't… if anything he's disgustingly loyal… //

"Sit down, sir. Your looming makes me anxious." 

A sunny smile made the command seem like a game, but he knew the beauty was in earnest. "… Wouldn't you rather prefer some privacy to read your letter?"

"… I wonder that privacy still exists…" The bland comment was guilt inspiring despite not being aimed at him in particular. "I doubt I'm the first person to scan the contents of this. The only real question is how many, and who are they."

"You've become cynical, Mister Kuja."

"… to say 'become' implies I was ever otherwise."

Clay shrugged, conceding the point and settled on the bench beside his companion. Determined to make the most of his enforced interview he looked on with interest. "What says the general then, 'unofficially'…?"

"Hmmm" Kuja broke the wax seal neatly in half, dusting the shattered remains off his lap as he folded the note open to scan the contents. Apparently the boring letter meant more to him than it had to Clay or any of the others trying to read into the Kai's love life because he frowned slightly as he read it over from the top. 

"Bad news?" He dearly wanted to know what the courtesan was thinking, but it was impossible to ask outright, not without confessing that he too had already seen the note.

"No… just ordinary things… he is well and preparing to proceed as planned…" Folding the paper and tucking it into a pocket, the slender man smiled. "He says I should be grateful that he didn't bring me along… apparently the mountains aren't very enjoyable this time of year."

"The roads are in rather poor condition, yes…" The young general allowed himself a nostalgic sigh. "… they always are… all that foot traffic back and forth… dusty and scorching hot when the weather is good, muddy and dangerous when the weather is bad… in winter they're damn near impossible."

"And yet you miss it."

"I miss being useful, yes."

"… hmmm… being useful is indeed a worthy aspiration."

Clay studied the pale courtier out of the corner of his eye, wondering if he was being toyed with after all. Kuja was studying the carefully manicured lawn and paid him no attention.  Measuring the delicate profile against the one he remembered from merely a week before, the soldier was surprised to note that the courtesan was getting thinner. There were hollows along his cheekbone that had not been as pronounced before, and without the animation of any particular expression, his skin had a rather translucent quality to it. He frowned wondering if his own obsession over the man was starting to make him imagine things that weren't there. 

// Nobody else seems to notice that he looks any different… It could just be the light… //

Thinking about the way the silver-haired man had frowned when reading his letter, he couldn't help but turn it over in his mind. Something had displeased him about the Kai's words, but what?

// … Then again, if he had been hoping for something more… effusive, maybe he was just upset at the lack of love poetry… //

The supreme general had written about his travels, and offered comments about the capital that had probably been in response to something Kuja had sent him. Clay wracked his brain for any deeper meaning but gave up on most of the message as being a lost cause. The only clues worth remembering were the strange comment about the dream, the general's mention of his unwavering adoration, and the –

// … The general asked him how he was feeling… An odd thing to ask, isn't it? Surely his lover writes to tell him of sleepless nights and unfulfilled longings… or whatever is popular these days… so why ask unless it wasn't his emotions he was trying to inquire after… //

That put a new light on the question he hadn't considered before. Nazer-kai was asking after his lover's health. The Kai knew something was the matter with his courtesan? Some secret illness perhaps? It was definitely worthy of a little investigation.

"You're very thoughtful today, general Gerrik."

"Perhaps I'm just appreciating the scenery." He added a little lilt to his voice, a teasing implication that it wasn't just the plants he was admiring.

"You sir, are a chameleon." Kuja stood only to playfully glare down at him. They were adversaries, there was no doubt, but there was a certain entertainment to it that they could both enjoy. "Far too easily do you change your colors to match the surround."

"I prefer to think of myself as a servant of fortune. Who am I to go against the currents when caught in a river?"

"A sheep then, blindly following the flock."

"Have you never heard the tale of the wolf who adorned himself in sheepskin to move among them unsuspected?"

The courtesan laughed lightly. "Ah, there we have it. A wolf you are, and 'wolf' I dub thee. Wolves can be tamed after all… a pat on the head and a meaty bone will soon bring them to bay."

Clay accepted his new title with a smirk. "Not as simple as that I think… but if I'm a wolf, then what should you be…? Something with teeth I think… there is a certain elegance about snakes…"

"Snake? Nay, good sir. I despise them. Hissing crawling creatures are not for me." Toying with the end of his braid, the man gave the idea a moment's playful thought. "I had always fancied myself a bird… perhaps it has to do with my love of heights, I know not. Swooping down on unsuspecting prey could be fun."

"A parrot perhaps. Something brightly colored and best loved from a distance because of its chatty disposition."

"Hardly complementary." Kuja scolded.

 "A song bird then," he remembered the decorative music box in the courtesan's sitting room in a burst of clarity. "Something pretty and precious, and so much loved by all they it had best kept safely in a cage… Very apt, don't you think?"

"Songbird's have beaks and talons like any other bird sir, they can defend themselves if necessary."

"This is true." Clay knew his victory when he saw it. "But they are still merely songbirds in the end, and fundamentally useless no matter how cleverly they sing. A rich man's toy and nothing more." 

His words caught the slender man by surprise. There was nothing pretended about the glare now. It was as cool and cutting as a spear's point. He had struck a nerve, but true to form Kuja needed only a moment to collect himself. 

"/Cur/."

The murmured insult seemed almost like an afterthought as he stalked away. Clay was too taken with the idea of the man as a bright little bird with ruffled feathers to come up with a suitable response and conceded that the last word, and the battle, had been won.  Smiling, he waited a moment before following him back into the castle. Small sacrifices were nothing compared to the greater war. Kuja might be clever, but he had no real power. When all was said and done, they would see who would play the other first to achieve their goals.

It only remained to be seen what the courtesan's goals actually were. 

***** 

The next bundle of mail found him between skirmishes. The packet of papers was awaiting him in his small field tent when he returned with his battalion from flushing the route ahead. Laro scrubbed soot and grime from his face and hands as his aides assisted him out of his armor and whisked it away for cleaning. Thumbing through the reports he really should have read first, and skipping over the notes from his field officers, he found the bundle of letters he had been hoping for, amazed at the punctual nature of the messages. Every two days, without fail, an almost mechanical exercise in communication. He flipped the envelopes over and checked the dates against the count in his head. His letter wouldn't have reached the castle before the last of Masa's notes was sent out. It couldn't be helped. It would be another week at least before he had a reply. 

Reading his mail wasn't a completely unemotional process. Even if his lover didn't speak of himself, his voice still came through when expressing his opinion on life in the castle.  It wasn't the same as talking to him in person, but given his options he was far happier to have the letters than to do without. The cat-man's comments about the newly-promoted Gerrik made Laro blink in surprise. It was one thing to have a theoretical rival, but despite Masa's calm description of soldier's obvious interest, he was worried just how far the man's curiosity would go.  Jealousy or not, he had a hunch the man was up to something. He just seemed the type. 

Too tired to fumble around to see if there was any paper left in his desk, he collapsed on his bedroll with a groan. Morbidly he wondered which was worse, dreaming of the Selwe, or dreaming of a lover whom he could neither help nor warn in time to do him any good. Masa would just have to take care of himself. Hopefully he would have the sense to go to either the Duke or the Dean if he got into anything over his head.

// You didn't want him /here/ because of the danger… now all you can do is hope that the defense you left him will be enough to keep him from harm… //

It didn't help the worries stop. He had played a risky game bringing the man to the capital. His secrets could be discovered at any time, the simplest error and things could crumble apart. Laro wondered if he should have confessed the full situation to Finlay after all. She had agreed to use the influence of the college to protect Masa without fully understanding what she was getting into. 

// He's not human. Not really… not like we are, anyway… and if he's not human… then they'll have to ask… what /is/ he… and I have nothing to tell them, nothing to say… "I don't know" just won't be good enough… //

Forcing himself to put it aside for another time, he closed his eyes and willed himself to go to sleep. He would think of a reply by morning, but when it would get the chance to be delivered was anyone's guess.

***** 

The hallway lamps were all set to their lowest level. Their meager glow provided enough illumination for the few servants still about but barely enough for much else. Clay couldn't have asked for a better time to go prowling about unmolested, and he moved with confidence through the shadows. As far as his friends and associates knew, he had retired to bed, leaving him free to slip out the window and about the halls like a ghost as he searched for his prey. 

// He did name me 'wolf'… //

Predator-like, he crept to the door to the Duke's private apartments and pressed his ear to the wood. The conversation within was child's play to eavesdrop but still he was thwarted. The men within were talking of art and leisure and nothing of substance. His hopes for a secret political meeting were foiled, but still he remained. Any chance to study his opponent was not to be missed. The fact that he was a lover of dramas was something he had observed, but the details were the telling thing. What was it in the plays he liked most? 

The duke was partial to stories of intrigue and revolution, but Kuja seemed to disagree, complaining that they were overblown and seldom anything but glorified excuses for play-acted slaughter. Silently laughing at the cool criticism, Clay gave the Kai's lover yet another point for boldness. Most people wouldn't have dared to imply Riquoi was uncivilized. Befitting a courtesan, the pale man confessed he preferred tales of romance. They argued the merits sharply for a time, the easy banter lulling the young general into a false security and almost making him miss his cue to move. He caught the thread of the conversation just in time to make himself scarce as the handle turned, the statesman noted nothing amiss as he asked if Kuja would need a servant to light his way back to his room. Surprisingly, the slim man turned him down with a laugh waving off concern with light-hearted confidence. 

Intrigued, the general kept himself hidden until the door had shut again. The courtesan already well down the hall by the time the duke had ceased his cajoling. Moving quickly to keep up, he wondered if the silver-haired man was simply flaunting his bravery, or if he honestly believed himself untouchable even in the unobserved shadows of the sleepy castle. It was not exactly the safest decision he could have made. His popularity had already proved a little more than he could handle.

// Then again, he was 'handling' it just fine until the guards showed up… what would he have done if I hadn't been there to provide excuse? Confessed to throwing a full-grown man into a wall? I wonder if Nazer has ever seen a demonstration of what his little bird can do… or maybe he knows already and that is why he chose him? A secret bodyguard? Assassin even… I just don't understand. //

His foot caught a drape as he slunk down the corridor, the rustling motion catching the courtesan's attention and causing him to turn. There was no laughter about him now, only a tired sort of impatience.

"Who's there?"

Trying hard to make even his breathing silent Clay clung to the shadows and remained frozen, willing the blue eyes to look over him and see nothing. It seemed to do the trick, as Kuja soon gave up with a sigh and resumed walking. He couldn't help but notice the man's pace was a little faster now, as if determined to get to the safety of his room with as much speed as was elegant.

// Pride… and fear? Is it possible to scare him I wonder…? What should he be afraid of? His trick that night might have been a fluke, perhaps. Certainly he tossed the man, but he is not beyond injury… // 

Childishly malicious, he deliberately clattered against a pillar as he slipped by. The noise didn't fail to go unnoticed. The courtesan stopped again, searching the hall more suspiciously than before. Making sure there was nothing for the man to see, the general crouched by a decorative bench. Kuja did not ask a second time, chewing his lip in anxiety as he quickly made his way to the staircase and began to climb. For a moment Clay forgot his original goal of the night, intrigued by the new game of spooking his usually unflappable opponent.  Deciding one last trick was in order, he raced to an alternate stair, mapping the castle in his head to recapture the courtesan just as he came to the top of the long flight of stairs. 

He arrived in time to douse the lights along one entire stretch of the hallway, idly remembering the pranks he used to play on his sisters as a boy. Having grown up in a rambling manor with far too many things that went bump-in-the-night, causing the susceptible girls to shriek in terror had been an occupation that kept him awake nights at a time. It seemed the courtesan was no exception when it came to feeling uneasy when prowling dark hallways. If anything his stubborn refusal to be afraid was a challenge. Clay smiled wickedly where he hid and calmly waited for the man to draw close enough. 

Kuja's nerve held up remarkably as he paced down the final hall between the stairs and his room. Even in the almost absolute darkness he moved as if he was confident about his surroundings. The general was faintly glad he had chosen to conceal himself in a drapery as the courtesan moved closer, there was not enough light to do more than see his outline through the shear material, but he wondered if maybe the multitalented man didn't have extraordinary night vision as well.  Waiting until the last possible second, he lunged out at the courtier as he walked by, raising his arms to make shimmering sleeves out of the long white curtain for the full effect. 

"Kuuuuuuja!"

Seeing the man's expression was impossible, but he didn't need to. The strangled 'eeep' was more than evidence enough to demonstrate that the surprise was complete. It wasn't the scream he had been hoping for, but watching the man back pedal and bolt down the corridor was more than satisfying enough. Smothering his laughter with his hand, he untangled himself from the curtains and staggered after him, vaguely worried that he had gone too far. Intuition was made reality as the dashing figure reached the first of the still-lit wall scones only to stagger and collapse against a convenient column.

// Oh great, if he's gone and sprained an ankle or something I'm going to get my head handed to me on a plate… If they ever find out it was me… //

It would have been perfectly appropriate and logical to turn around and retreat while he could. Only now that he had succeeded did he realize just how stupid the trick had been. If Kuja /had/ screamed, he would have been on the run for real, getting caught by the palace guards not being on his agenda for the night. It had been lucky chance that the courtesan was proud enough not to turn immediately and go back to the shelter of the duke's apartment.

Self-interest warred with worry as he waited for the man to pick himself up and retreat to his room. It was only two doors away and yet the silver-haired courtier seemed unable to stir. Kneeling on the carpet he simply panted painfully, utterly discomposed.

// That's what a lifestyle of pampered elegance gets you… can't even dash 100 feet without falling over? A child could take him down right now… //

Usually someone out of breath would immediately improve on sitting down. Something in the strained sound making him move before realizing what he was doing. Kuja wasn't catching his breath. He was struggling to breathe at all. Clinging to the column as he hyperventilated, the courtesan didn't even sense his arrival until he knelt beside him.

"…Keep… away… from me…"

"Don't be stupid, let me help." There was no thought of spooking the man further, Clay batted the resisting hand away and pulled the smaller man further into the light to get a better look at him. Whatever it was, it wasn't the panic attack he had taken it for. 

// My god, he really can't breathe…? //

Desperation and not blind terror was what he read from the wide-eyed stare. After a moment of recognition even the resistance stopped. Kuja made to speak, but the words were garbled with his breath. Unnaturally pale and down right clammy to the touch, the usually eloquent hands grasped his jacket with tenacious strength, using him as a prop against collapsing a second time. Clay cursed in a quiet litany as he lowered his unintended victim carefully to the floor and hold him steady as he tried to find the air he needed. 

"I need to get you a doctor, yes?" He unbuttoned the high collar enough to try and see if there was anything obstructing the delicate throat, but there was nothing. It wasn't that the man couldn't breathe. He was very obviously doing so. The problem seemed to lie in that breath alone wasn't helping. For all he gasped for air, he could find no relief for what was wrong. "Will you let me carry you?"

// Oh /this/ will be wonderful to explain… I just conveniently happened by his room and found him ill? No, I found him in the hall… out side his room? What would I be doing there? Outside the duke's room then, that's more central… Oh stop wasting time… //

"No…" The wheezing reply caught him just as he was about to scoop the man aloft. 

"What? Now is no time to be stuck-up, sir. I'm no kai but the fastest way to get you to the college is to carry you!"

"…No doctors…"

The general sat back on his heels in disbelief at the refusal. Fingers curled into the carpet, Kuja seemed to be recovering himself, if only enough to speak single words. "You need help."

"So… help me…"

"How?"

"My room…?"

"This is ludicrous." His thoughts from the previous day were coming back to hound him again. Even as he half-carried the courtesan to his door, he wondered what was going on. The fit, if that was what it was, persisted for several minutes, leaving him standing uncertainly in the main room while his ill looking host rested on the couch. Clay was angry at himself for starting it, angry at Kuja for inexplicably collapsing, angry at himself again for allowing the man to talk him out of depositing him at the college. If something were to happen now it would be entirely his fault and it wasn't a pleasant feeling at all. 

// Accidentally killing the Kai's consort is not going to get /anyone/ a promotion… //

He wanted to yell at the man and make him come to his senses. When he opened his mouth to speak however, it ended up being something completely different. "What now, a glass of water?"

"… It was you all along?" Exhausted but able to sustain sentences again, the pale man looked steadily at him.

"… I… yes. Sorry." 

"…why?" 

The question, revealing the slender man's utter bafflement only made him feel worse. "It was just a prank… didn't think you'd fall over on me…"

"…prank?!" Shouting was apparently too much too soon. Kuja went back to wheezing on the couch. He still found energy enough to glare however.

"… At least let me fetch a doctor… you don't look well at all…"

"Get out."

"Are you sure?"

"Go."

Staggering up right, suddenly it looked as though the small man was going to find the strength to throw him out if he didn't agree. Torn, Clay glanced between the door and his companion wondering what he should do. "…If you insist…"

"… and general…" The tone was almost conversational despite the strain. "… Mention any of this, or any other pranks… and… I will tell the others how you spend your evenings… and you will be begging for your scraps in the street…"

There was no response he could give that wouldn't have start a fight, or sound like surrender. Not wanting to do either, he bit his tongue and bowed slightly before backing out of the door, and retreating for the night. Thrown off his stride by the unexpected turn of events it wasn't until he was back in the safe confines of his own rooms that he realized that Kuja had yet again gotten the last word. Suddenly it didn't seem that important anymore.  There were other ways to distinguish himself enough to please the powers of the court, he didn't need to try and compete with the army's latest and loveliest mascot. He had found the man's weakness, but in finding wasn't sure if it could or should be exploited. 

Kuja's quiet threat hung in his ears, refusing to be dismissed. What was he trying to hide, and from who? The general resolved to watch the man a little while longer, out of morbid interest or genuine concern he couldn't say. One way or another, the charade couldn't last. Even if the courtesan was able to pull off an illusion of health come morning, it would only be a matter of time before something or someone else caused another collapse.

***** 

***** 

--Lunar


	16. What Did I Do to Deserve this Gift?

Feather Flight: What did I do to deserve this gift**?(part 16)**

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

*************************

"This information is twenty-four damn hours old!" Kuja tossed the papers aside, angry at facts he couldn't change and too tired to be diplomatic about it. "Trying to strategize anything like this is futile, if the inputted values are irrelevant what difference does my analysis make!"

He was losing his edge. Sleep had been a long time coming, and what little he had managed only left him feeling emptier than before. Looking at the stunned group of officers, all of whom were startled to silence by his uncharacteristic outburst, he simply shrugged and turned back to the model world that dominated the room. Above the topographic map of the continent, men lay themselves out carefully on scaffolds, moving the army icons to their new position one careful poke at a time. It was beautiful, and utterly archaic. It was no way to fight a war. 

The elderly duke rested a calming hand in his arm, the man a steady presence at his shoulder. "Easy, Mr.Kuja, we do what we can… it is important that someone sees the larger picture where our generals cannot. We guide them…"

"To an early death…" Kuja was in no mood to be mollified. He had been staring at the map for hours and no inspiration would come. His usual gift for planning had failed him leaving him with idiotic and unrealistic flights of fancy. Laro didn't need speculation, he needed answers. He needed the fastest way to achieve his goals with a minimum loss of resources.

// Resources… Lives. We're talking people's /lives/… not dolls, not monsters… living breathing thinking people… /Laro/… Make the wrong call, and Laro could die… //

The responsibility was sickening and he didn't understand how nobody else seemed to care. To them the pieces on the board were just that, pieces. Every time he closed his eyes, the bits of brass and pewter were substituted for minutely detailed hordes of men standing as bravely as they could against a blanketing army of insects. Somehow it was easier to think with his eyes closed. It shut out some of the distractions of the room. 

He was tired, beyond tired, and knew it showed. Two days after his secret collapse and he still hadn't recovered. His reflection was a stranger, pale and sickly. He looked sick enough that his friends couldn't help but ask what was wrong. Delaying them with petty excuses wouldn't work forever. It was another strategic problem for his tired mind to tackle, but not now.

// Laro… Think of Laro… //

Kuja had gotten involved in the first place because he found that he couldn't /not/ help. Now it seemed he couldn't help either. It was an insidious torture. His thoughts bent towards the front so often that he daydreamed of the armies, their movements, their choices. When the reports came in he compared fantasy to reality and was dubiously pleased. The Selwe were insects after all, they had patterns, predictable behavior. The longer he studied them the more he acknowledged that they were consummate conquerors. Their tactics -- while conservative -- were designed to get the job done and played always on their strengths. The genome was only grateful that their weaknesses also showed along predictable lines; in sudden surprise situations, or when environment hampered their mobility. It grew easier with each battle he reviewed. He seemed to have a knack for thinking like they did. Maybe it was just that he had something in common with them. 

// After all… how many ways are there to orchestrate a war on a global conquest scale…? I had my mages, she had her drones… I had my guardians, she has her monsters, but we have… I had… the same goal… utter destruction, and the patience to let it come in its own time. //

He frowned, spinning the battlefield around in his mind until he was seeing it from the enemy's perspective. He could imagine what elements of the army were known and unknown, how they would shy away from the mountain passes in favor of laying in ground troops in the plain around the Tower. Laro would have to take the first move, an opening gambit. The Selwe had nothing to loose in waiting, they could watch his army in the mountains until the men starved, or until the season turned cold enough that snows made staying put just as hazardous as marching into the lowlands.

//… I wonder… if she is like me… is she fighting because she wants the world? Or is she fighting because she has no choice… //

It wasn't the first time he had played tactical games against a woman either. An edge of experience that helped put him head and shoulders above his peers at court. Admittedly the Queen was like no woman he had ever encountered, able to accept losses among what must have been her /children/ because the drones were less than sentient, replaceable. She was still distinctly feminine however, in her tactics and her plans. She was fond of slowly building pressure rather than sharp sweeping attacks. Her army would press steadily, marching always, inches at a time if need be, but they would never stop completely; were fundamentally unstoppable so long as she lived.

// So it must cost her something, to hatch new soldiers and send them off to die… She can't be completely detached… So…What is her motivation…? What is it she gains from this action? //

// What does any woman warrior want… not glory… It's a rare woman who will fight for something so hollow… that is a man's habit… so what? //

The answer came upon a moment of inner clarity. He knew what drove her, it was the same thing that had convinced Brahne to be his ally, the same thing that eventually driven her daughter to be his enemy. The mother had been easy to manipulate in her sorrow and her loss. Women when hurt, were always ready to believe that attacking was the only way to be sure it wouldn't happen again, even when it wasn't true.

// Peace… Women usually fight so that they can have peace… and safety for their loved ones. She has decided she cannot get that safety while we live… so… she fears us? What we are capable of…? //

// She is a steady and meticulous creature… but how far does her consciousness extend…? I would need to see a live-drone to be certain… that'll never happen… but it could be crucial… can we move faster than she can? Can we out maneuver her? Laro has in the past… can he do it again? Or has she learned from those mistakes… //

Knowing the troop placements on the map, in his head, were hours old, meaningless, he shifted the army around slightly on the presumption that Laro would make the first move. His lover was definitely the /male/ aspect of the battle. His attacks rarely came with any finesse but had a definite kinetic aspect. Blitzkrieg war; his army would dive down into the fray to wreak havoc among the orderly outer boundaries only to swing back into the mountains just as quickly. Laro would try and soften the solid wall of troops in the valley, nibble at the edges, had probably begun to already.

// It won't change the fact that eventually he will have to commit to an assault. Any protracted attack and her army will stand ready and waiting to rip his flank to shreds. // 

Eyes closed he could see it, the Kai's impatience to get it over with, the Queen's answering calm. It would be so easy for Laro's army to push too far too fast and become utterly engulfed. The result would be ugly. Opening his eyes, he stared at the floor until the wave of dizziness passed. 

"My lord… how fast can a message be sent out to Nazer-kai…" The formal name felt foreign on his lips.

"Six hours at our fastest." Riquoi's murmur sounded pleased, his prodigal son about to produce another miracle. Kuja smiled at the thought. Somehow it didn't bother him to be the old-man's political asset, maybe it was just that he was so used to being a tool for /someone/ that at this point anyone would do.

"A day should be sufficient."

// At least Riquoi doesn't beat me when I get things wrong… and hell, did Garland /ever/ praise me? For anything? //

If there had been a time when it had happened, Kuja un-remembered it. Terra didn't matter anymore. He didn't even have the energy to spare to curse its ruin properly. Focus, focus was what he needed. The message would have to be sent, but what else? If Laro couldn't sit still, and couldn't commit full forces, then what was he to do?

// Think... this is what you were trained for… two armies… one field, one goal… Laro must get to the Tower… She will wait for the slightest error… and eliminate him once and for all… //

// _Two households, both alike in dignity… In fair __Verona__, where we lay our scene… //_

The litany of the ancient play tickled the back of his mind, suddenly he couldn't remember if it was a line from something on Gaia, or something he had recently read from Riquoi's collection. The morbid prose seemed to have a life of its own. He shut his eyes again, preferring the silence inside his head to the murmurs of the soldiers in the room.

Behind his eyelids the armies clashed and rolled, and instead of going straight for the goal as expected, Laro's troops folded back and over themselves, slicing off the entire eastern edge of the defensive army and folding the unsuspecting insects into a violent sea of humanity. What would keep the Selwe from positioning themselves between the men and the safety of the mountain pass when time for retreat came? From the heights, the mammoth beam cannons were positioned just /so/, hammering the hot surface of the plains below blocking all access.

// Snow… we could mix it up with some old fashioned catapults full of ice… that would definitely get their attention… Hot playing off cold, one contrast too many for their leaders to comprehend… leaders… She must have some sort of eyes on the ground, Laro described the different classes of drone… someone has to be chaperoning all the troops, it's just more efficient… If we can find them, eliminate them… that would be a breaking point… //

The human army crushed the part it had bit off the enemy's flank before spilling back around and taking a bite off the other side, fresh fighters from the back would take the brunt of the attack allowing the wounded to siphon off? Maybe Laro could swap armies half way to save his fighter's stamina. It wasn't a decision he could make this far from the front. 

Silently wishing for an airship wasn't going to magically produce one from the ether. He missed his dragon. It had been a thing of utility and beauty, even if it had been of little use as anything but a pet. This was not Gaia. He would have to work with the paltry assets he was given. He just hoped it would be enough.

"… Tell the general… that direct assault must not occur, he will be flanked and summarily crushed…" An idea tickled the back of his head. "How far away is Ibat-kai's main attack group?"

"A day, maybe more, depends if you want to move light infantry or something more substantial."

It took a moment to frame his thoughts into orders, his voice sounding as detached as he felt as he rattled off the steps for his plan. It was rough, but it would have to be. Laro would know best how to fill in the details based on weather, terrain and shifts in his enemy's defensive line. "Tell Laro… Tell him that /this/ is what he should do… it will take a day, perhaps two… but the Tower will be his…"

// … _from ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean…//_

// It'll be an ugly fight from start to finish, Laro… but it will be yours to win if you watch your back… //

There was nothing more he could do now. The scribes would copy down his terse orders, bundle them into the official cases, and rush them at manic speed to the front lines. That vague point in the distance where /things/ were happening and all his hopes were grounded. Opening his eyes again, he accepted the arm that was offered, leaning against it with a tired sigh.

"You should rest. You push yourself too hard, Masa…" 

He smiled at the intimacy implied with the duke's choice of name. The old man was genuinely worried about him, cared for him, even if only as a pawn. It was nice, he decided, to be cared about. 

// _Zidane__...? What are you doing here? In thought I told you to go... //_

// _Wouldn't you do the same for me if you knew I was dying? //_

The memory surprised him, waking from his dream like state. He would not be weak. Weakness could not be tolerated, now more than ever. If his moronic brother could pull off an impossible victory on little more than ego and divine luck, he could do the same.

// … I still don't like you… Zidane…//

// … but I don't think I hate you anymore… now that I know… what it feels like to try to protect the people I… I am responsible for… I understand… why you struggled so hard... against Terra… against Garland… Not for yourself… never for yourself… but for them… //

Finding strength he didn't know he had, Kuja stood up straighter and let go of the nobleman's supporting arm. Those among the soldiers who weren't studying the board after his declaration were staring at him in open awe. Smirking, he bowed to his patron and quietly left the room.

***** 

The sweat was stinging his eyes as he perched on the sun-baked rocks and watched the flow of the attack in the valley ahead. In the distance the Tower loomed like a massive black shadow, defined more by its 'not belonging' in the arid plain then by any easier explanation. It drew the eye upwards without a watcher even intending to, a spire in communication with the heavens. The Tower was a direct connection to the pitch darkness of space where the Queen was rumored to watch. Laro gave it his grudging respect and refused to pay it any further attention, his eyes were far more interested in the more immediate. A strike force was grazing along the outer edge of the carefully arrayed enemy line, slicing through stragglers and nipping at the corners of the formations. The tactic was effective, as far as it went. 

The Selwe never could work up a way to avoid the fast-paced harassment. By the time one phalanx would move in order to confront their human tormenters, the team was gone, further down the line, or swinging back to safety. He let the current group go a little further than the last, watching the ripples of retaliation slowly percolate through the mass of waiting drones. He raised a hand to his second only when the squad ran the risk of running too far. A whistling signal called the men home again, leaving a trail of smashed husks strewn on the ground behind them. It was an annoyance at best, but gave the men /something/ to do while he contemplated the various insanities available to him. 

// Split the army in half? Evacuate the mountain pass and try and work around behind? Maybe I can push them up against the mountains and pin them… but gods know what is over that set of bluffs… until the scouts come back there is no telling if I'd be pushing the army right into 'the backup' or not… and that would be… unpleasant. // 

The understatement left him with a sour taste in his mouth. It was a waiting game no matter how he looked at it. Everything he could do was risky, and the payoff was getting damned elusive. He wondered if his old friend was having similar difficulties further north. Ibat's most recent surveys hadn't shown any unusually massive activity blocking his progress, just an increasingly nasty number of the larger beasts of the Queen's army. At the moment he was effectively trapped in the highlands as he picked the massive Diggers off one at a time. 

Laro briefly considered calling the older man's army down to mesh with his own. Apparently the Selwe were either able to guess his plans in particular, or they had just decided to tear through his army first before moving on to the second one. Either possibility was worth being paranoid about, but it didn't change the fact that he needed to /do/ something. Stalemates were meant to be broken, and the summer was already waning.

// … And I can't very well beat them to death twenty or thirty at a time, that'll take all year… I need something decisive… something that won't end up with a lot of dead men on my hands… //

He stared at the barren baked clay that once used to be a fertile plain, and wracked his uncooperative brain for ideas. His best bet was to wait it out and see if the new tacticians at the capital could see something he couldn't. The suggestions trickling down the pipe had taken a delightful change for the better in recent weeks, leaving him to wonder if they had actually found a strategist worth his spit, or if his memories of the old strategic reports had been twisted some how during his conference. If it wasn't that his captains, and Ibat-kai, seemed to feel the same way he would have suspected the fault lay with him. Whoever it was who had taken the war so firmly in hand, he sorely deserved whatever medals could be dished out for a non-combatant. The only pity was that he or they were too far away to make more than generalized guesses as to what was needed. 

// Frighteningly accurate guesses, but still… For once, maybe I'll sit back and trust the advisors to… advise me? How bizarre… and where the hell are my scouts… ? //

***** 

For once Clay found himself almost bumping into his Kai's silvery lover without intending to. He had given the game up as hopeless after the near disaster only nights before, had stopped even pretending to follow his former quarry between meals or back and forth from the war room or to the college. Habit was hard to break however, and once he had caught sight of the man, he couldn't help but observe him.Kuja was oblivious to everything, walking with painful slowness down a corridor that would eventually take him to his suite. 

// Looks dead on his feet… or just plain /dead/… somebody really ought to take him to task… or to a doctor… //

It wasn't his place to intervene. He shook his head and resolutely continued his errand. It wasn't like they were friends. The only thing that had existed between them was make-believe, and it was a game that neither of them seemed keen to resume. The general carefully pushed the hint of guilt aside. Whatever happened, it had nothing to do with him. 

// And really… if he does /die/… so what… the army looses another strategist… the court another flower… and Riquoi is out a toy… Nothing new in any of those things… the man is replaceable; it's as simple as that. //

His stomach turned at the thought and not knowing quite why, he changed his course to take him to the war room before returning to his desk.Maybe it was just morbid curiosity, but he suddenly wanted to know what dubious scheme the pale courtesan had conjured /this/ time. Kuja's ability to foresee the movements of troops on the table without even a hope of current information was damned uncanny. Clay at least was skeptic enough to believe that it was just good guesswork, but rumors were beginning to circulate that 'Masa' might have a touch of the divine after all. It was either that, or the courtesan had some sort of direct connection with the mind of the hive's queen, he had heard both arguments repeatedly over the last few days. 

// Although lately the 'holy' angle has been winning, given that he /looks/ the part of some suffering martyr, I'm not surprised… maybe it's all deliberate… more play acting from a master manipulator? //

// There's no such thing as fallen angels, after all…Those are just kid's stories… //

He would have snorted at the obvious play on words in the man's name, but the memory of the frightening attack left him cold. Kuja hadn't been play-acting then. His fear, and his struggle had been very real. Prodding the problem was like poking at a sore wound. It ached and yet could not be left alone. Even in denying his obsession, he couldn't let it go. Kuja, everything came back to him somehow. After weeks there was still no way to decode the riddle that was the courtesan, and for the moment at least, he remained the pin holding many of the most interesting groups together. 

// … and it just may happen that he'll vanish and still be just as much of an enigma as when he arrived… //

It was frustrating to the extreme. He laughed at himself a little as he pushed his way through the scatterings of officers and arrived at the inner sanctum of the army's intelligence. The massive miniature world had changed drastically since he had left it in the morning. The area around the Kai's army now littered with little light blue flags, anticipated troop movements. There was only one guess as to who had done the anticipating. He studied the pattern a moment, not comprehending the scattering of points before someone tapped a paper against his elbow and he was handed the notes, the key to unraveling the muddled messages of the board. 

Kuja had gone one-step beyond himself, applying the Queen's own diffuse attack style against her. The general was oddly reminded of a comment he had once heard as a child, about how only diamonds were able to grind other diamonds. The tactic was tricky, and would require a cool head from the sub-commanders as well as good instincts on the part of the officers running the drills, but it was solid. He ran the plan through from start to finish, tracing out the wave-like motion of the attacking army as it peeled away the Tower's defense one gentle sweep at a time. 

// … Brilliant bastard… I'd have never thought of that… an oblique attack, but if it goes wrong… it'll be a mess… //

"Not to bad for a single morning's work, don't you think, General Gerrik?" The duke's dry voice caught him by surprise, turning to realize for the first time that the old man had been at his elbow since his arrival. A skeletal hand carefully reclaimed the scrap of paper. "… quite impressive, I'd say."

"Better than /you/ anyway…" He didn't particularly feel like being polite. They both seemed to get along better when getting right to the point. The old man must have agreed for his smile, while wintery, was still a smile.

"Mister Kuja is a man of myriad talents…"

"Yes." He shrugged, wondering where the nobleman was leading him. "I suppose he is."

"He is also, I think you've noticed… deteriorating in health."

The nuance of the statement, the stress on the 'you' in particular caused him to pause suspiciously. "What are you implying, my lord?" 

Riquoi simply signaled him out on to an open-air veranda connecting the building with the next one over. It wasn't until they were alone that he bothered to explain. "You watch him… most carefully…" He raised his hand. "Don't deny it, general… as you have been watching… so have you been watched…"

"Oh…" Somewhere above his head, he could hear the whistle of the proverbial axe as it fell.

The duke simply smiled his cool smile again, "It seems of course, that you have had far better luck with your researches than my observers have had in mine… you have a slippery nature, for a soldier."

// He's as much as admitting that he doesn't have anything to blackmail me with? Why give away such an advantage… He could be lying, I suppose, trying to force my hand… // 

Clay chose his words slowly, hoping to catch any accidental slips before they were irrevocable. "… I might have spent some time observing him, as you say sir… but even you must admit… Kuja is hardly watched by myself alone…"

"No… you are right… he is quite a favorite… now more than ever…" The statesman's sigh was thoughtful. "Are you in love with him, General Gerrik?"

"What?" Almost choking on his surprise, the younger man looked over at his adversary. "What in the world gave you that idea?"

"A man who watches as avidly as you have tends to have few motivations, if it is not love or simple lust, then it is something darker… you are studying him… weighing his merits and his weaknesses."

"Maybe I am simply watching out for my Kai's most precious possession."

"Nazer doesn't own /that/ one…" Riquoi laughed at his own words. "I don't think Kuja is someone who /can/ be owned… an independent creature, is our Mister Kuja…"

"Might I ask, my lord, what it is you want from me?" The general tucked his hands in his pockets, displaying more calm then he felt. "Why bring this up now when a simple word to my superiors would have me instantly removed from your sight, and as a threat to anyone…"

"I don't think you're a threat." The duke snorted lightly. "You're too stupid to be a threat to me, boy… and far far too young…" He didn't give the words time to sink in enough to sting. "No, what I need from you, is information."

"Information?"

"Whatever your reasons, sir… you /do/ watch him… do you admit that much?"

"… If I must, then yes. I have watched him."

"In your opinion, as an expert on his habits both public and private… is he loyal?"

Clay blinked at the question. "Is he not your friend that you can decide these things for yourself?"

"You see things that others do not… that I do not… so tell me… is he loyal?"

"… disgustingly so." The answer came with surprising ease. He let his one chance to drive a wedge between the old nobleman and his favorite courtier come and go in a flash. "If he isn't Nazer's pet, then he is at the very least a very devoted companion…"

"… That's a relief… I'll need something to crush the rumors with…" A sharp eye caught him and all but pinned him to his place. "And now… tell me, physically how does he compare with past weeks?"

"… He's sick… and getting sicker…" It was almost a relief, to be cornered and made to confess. Some of the guilt that had been pricking the back of his conscience faded as he divulged his secrets. "Tell me milord, did he dine with you this morning?"

"… No, he said he found something to his liking in the hall before he arrived."

"He lied then. He didn't eat in the hall this morning, nor in his room… I have taken the liberty of bribing his maid…" He said by way of explanation. "And he probably told you the same yesterday… That means by my calculation, he hasn't really eaten a meal since… two days ago dinner… and that amounted to some bread little else…"

"Deliberately starving himself? To what goal?"

"Perhaps it's a symptom of something else…"

"Go on…"

"I have noticed…" He winced, picking out a white lie from the truth with exquisite care. "… I have found that he has been suffering of late from a sort of attack… an extreme difficulty breathing brought on by sudden shock or exertion… I am no doctor sir, but I wonder that the man might need one…"

"… That will require the Dean's cooperation." The old man mused lightly. "We can hardly go and carry the man off over your shoulder to have him examined if that isn't what he wants."

"Wait a day longer and his illness will not allow him to protest…"

"That is one option, yes…" The duke sighed in frustration. "This isn't good news… I will have to consult with Madam Finlay and see what course to take. In the mean time, you will continue to /watch/ Mr. Kuja, general."

"…my lord?" 

"… and will report to myself or the Dean if anything changes… understood?"

"Yes sir."

Sharp eyes caught and trapped him once more. "The last thing we need boy, is for Laro to go off half-cocked on some rumor that all may not be well at home… got it?"

"Yes sir."

"Good… now… go keep an eye on our mutual… acquaintance."

With a feeling of a man who had just received a conditional stay-of-execution, Clay made a sketchy salute and escaped back into the castle. Watching his departure with brief interest, the old man smirked to himself before moving in another direction, using the breezy causeway to find the shortest route to the college. Even in the cheerful sun, his sequined black robes made him look like an ancient vulture pacing along the path. 

***** 

Knocking on the door provoked no response, the lack of reaction making him more paranoid than it should have. Clay banged again, less politely this time. 

Following the courtesan as he returned from the gardens had been child's play. Moving as if in a dream, the silver-haired man wouldn't have noticed him if he had moved to stand directly in his path. In the lengthening shadows of the afternoon, the pale face had looked gaunt, almost skeletal. Thin to begin with, there was little margin for error in Kuja's diet. Not eating had already begun to take a noticeable toll on his body. Clay was frankly surprised the courtier had made it as far as his room, only to be stymied by the door that was shut against him.He would need a valid excuse if he was to get past the threshold without the guards being called down on his head.

// Of course now that I have 'official business' being a snoop… I /probably/ won't get thrown in jail for it… //

It was a few minutes work to slip into the hall and procure the props he would need. Bringing up a tray was servant's work, but no one questioned his motivations. Not for the first time he happily cloaked himself in the servile anonymity of one of the Great Kai's unquestioning loyal masses. Wine and fruit in hand, he knocked again, wondering if he would be scolded for interrupting the man's hard-won rest. There was no reply.

He set the tray down and with patient skill tricked the bolt back in its lock with the aide of a slender dagger. Wary that the suite's occupant wouldn't take kindly to trespassers, he made his entrance quietly. "… Mister Kuja…?

The sitting room was as he remembered it, not a cushion out of place. With no sign of his goal, he gave up on it and moved instead for the room beyond. The courtesan wasn't sleeping on the bed. He /was/ however collapsed on the floor.

"…Shit…" 

Only the fact that he had been expecting it -- or something worse -- allowed him to react as calmly as he did. There was no response from the limp form when he lifted it into bed and tilted the head back to attempt to aid the ragged breathing. The pale man's lungs seemed to rattle painfully with the effort. He couldn't tell if the man was even aware of his predicament. "… You… don't move an inch… I'm getting you a doctor…"

Darting into the hallway, he was lucky enough to catch a servant and send them racing off to the college. A second lucky catch was driven to seek out the Duke and alert him to the inevitable. Wondering how exactly he had let himself be talked into playing nursemaid, the general let himself back into the quiet suite and sat beside Kuja on the bed to wait.

"… Troublesome little thing… aren't you…"

***** 

***** 

Aaaaand… the other shoe drops. 

Look for ch17 next month most likely… we've still got a ways to go before this ride returns to station.

--Lunar. 


	17. I Want to Protect You

Feather Flight: **I Want to Protect You. (part 17)**

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

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*************************    

Laro wiped the blood from his eyes as he worked his way down the edge of the column, coaxing his men back towards the safety of the main army with whatever he could. Well mauled, but victorious, they trudged two-abreast down the long spiraling staircase at the center of the cracked and crumbling monolith.  Carried in their midst on a careful stretcher of spears and cloaks, was a remarkable treasure. The general refused to look at it, knowing its power to enthrall. Instead he stood in a convenient alcove as the group passed by before falling in behind them with the injured, catching one of the limping officers around the waist and under the arm to act as human-crutch.

"Come on man, lean on me. No sense tumbling down into the others and causing a cascade."

Aghast to be assisted by a warlord, the Lieutenant could only nod silently, diligently bending to the task of limping his way down the interminable flight of stairs. Laro's nose twitched with the scent of dust, and insect spoor. The sooner he was back in daylight, the happier he'd be. They would camp the base of the Tower for a day before pushing south, but first there was the matter of the Shard to deal with. He calculated a rough schedule for the journey to the capital and silently determined it would just be easiest if he sent it back in his jeep. Propriety or not, he didn't see any problem with walking with his troops for a few weeks, if it meant that his latest trophy was safely secured within the capital. The general made a mental note to double the watch for the night, wondering if the Selwe would dare a sneak attack to reclaim what was lost. 

// No, they'll just expect to attack a slow moving army moving back to the mountains, but if we push ahead, and the driver makes good time… I should send my spare truck as well… extravagant perhaps but if one breaks down… Speed is all that matters at this point. //

They blinked to adjust their eyes as they emerged into the westerly sunlight. Laro took the opportunity to pass his burden off to one of the soldiers resting at the base. The soldier would be tended to as soon as the medical tent was up and ready. He turned instead and rattled off commands to his staff sergeant, taking a moment to personally oversee the Shard carefully packed and lashed to the back of the small vehicle. Driver, guards, and mechanics prepared with minimum wasted motion, and within the hour all that remained was the dust of their passing.  

Laro continued to rattle off orders as the camp took shape, stationing sharp shooters at the top of the Tower where they could get the best view of the valley. Looking up, he couldn't help but be impressed at the size of their accomplishment. Even after the final siege the monolith stood mostly intact, especially the critical top floors. Taking a Tower undamaged was a stroke of luck even he couldn't have predicted. Ibat for all of his successes in the past year, hadn't managed one yet where the fragile top floors hadn't given way; either teetering sideways or caving in on themselves, breaking the treasure contained within. Gathering pieces of the Shards was easy enough to do -- given the relative sizes and experience of the armies – but to steal one both whole and intact. He couldn't help but smile. 

// Good luck… and good strategy… I'll have to ask Masa who this new strategist is… maybe he can put some pressure on the Duke for me… //

*************************  

Kuja awoke from his dream of twisting roots and shuddering darkness with little warning. One minute he was /there/, the memory still vivid in his mind despite the time that had passed. The next minute, he opened his eyes, and was greeted by a bland panorama of white ceiling. It conflicted oddly with the echo of Zidane's voice in his ears and the roaring rush of the Lifa tree as it threatened to consume them, consume everything.

// _… Don't you go dying on me… alright?! _ //

He was amazed at his brother's strained expression, noticing for the first time how scared Zidane looked despite his brave words. It was strange to think of Zidane as having any self-doubt. Maybe his memory was playing tricks, trying to make him feel better about his own weakness.

// _… No matter what you say… you don't deserve to die_... // 

His brother had been an idiot, that much at least, hadn't changed. Why bother trying to save a dying man? They both would have been better off if Zidane had just left him behind.

// But I told him… I told him the trick to the tree… I who knew more of Garland's lore than anyone, excepting perhaps Mikoto… He had to have escaped… learned to go /beyond/… He would have had the strength I lacked… //

He felt stiff and drained, content to lay still and be cocooned by the heavy blankets tucked around him rather than draw attention to himself. The tree, the dark, the ocean, two thoughts drifted close enough to catch and he pieced them together into a workable theory. 

// He has to be alive… if he didn't send me here, than who did? Sending me between two worlds without the need for technology… Zidane… an angel of Death who could be everywhere and also nowhere… A weapon capable of existing outside of time itself? Garland's ultimate creation… and it wasn't me… //

Tired, he studied the plastered smoothness of the ceiling, not really seeing it for what it was but rather as a canvas to hold his memories. Something about the blank white helped him gather his thoughts.

// I could always see /how/… but lacked the strength… artificially limited, in power, in life, given an inferior soul… Right until the end… and then I found a way… to go to Memoria where the Crystal dwells… I did it. I walked between worlds… just like he could. So if I could do it, beaten as I was… surely, he would be able to tame the tree, to walk through the walls… to be free… //

The genome's sigh was a rattling noise in his chest that did not bode well. That thought too made him smile. One way or another, he had reached his long delayed 'final act'.

"Kuja?" 

"… yes."

"Don't move, I'm getting the others."  His unknown nursemaid slipped from the room and returned with a murmuring crowd in tow. Kuja was treated to a surreal view of several people, all trying to peer down at him at once. After a moment his tired brain allowed him to pick the Duke's face out of the jumble.

"… what… happened?"

"You fell ill…" 

Finding that if he forced himself to focus, he could place names with faces, the silver-haired man digested the news without comment. It was uncomfortable to have so many people looming over him. "Help me sit up?" 

He closed his eyes when reality refused to behave, trusting the others to get his uncooperative body into a pose more suited for talking without his help. Watching the room tilt and churn wasn't going to help him keep a handle on his stomach, which was feeling more than a little rebellious. 

"I'd like you to eat something, Kuja…" The warm cup was pressed against his lips, and unwilling, he swallowed. He didn't need to look at the sturdy woman to recognize her voice. "I sent for Ing immediately, but it'll be tomorrow at the soonest that we can expect him."

"Ing?" Surprisingly, his stomach was content to allow the intruding broth, and the warmth did more to wake him than anything else. "Tomorrow…? But he lives days away…"  Opening his eyes, he could appreciate the more reasonable view, his little audience gathered on stools around his bed. Their worried looks spoke volumes.

"…How long have I slept…?"

"… four days, child." 

He looked at the dean in disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"What do you remember…?"

"… I… went back to my room…"

"… and…?"

"Went to sleep?"

"You didn't even take your shoes off… Good thing I checked on you when I did…" The young general's bland comment shook him from his stupor. Finding he had the strength to feed himself, he claimed the cup, more as a distraction than out of any real desire for food. 

"… four days… today is the 21st then…" Something about the date tickled a memory. 

"Yes." 

// Oh hell… I don't need this right now… //

Knowing what the reply would be, he had to ask anyway. "… I don't suppose anyone remembered… to send Laro my letters…"

To his credit, the Duke caught onto his meaning faster than the others, wincing in dismay. "… Unfortunately, it had completely slipped my mind in the excitement…"

Kuja drank again, voice reviving a little with the aid of the fluid. "He'll be expecting letters… eight of them… one every second day…" 

"I'll take care of it. We'll just say they were delayed somehow…"

"I'd only written six… I was supposed to have finished the other two… but didn't…"

Riquoi paused, and then shook his head. "I'll take care of it. Wouldn't be the first time I've had use for a forger in my life." He smiled cynically. "Anything in particular he's expecting you to say?"

Tilting his head back on the pillows, the silver-haired man thought a moment. "Just general news, and that I am well… and maybe that I miss talking with him… that ought to tide him over. Use the others as a guide if you must."

"I'll be back in an hour." The old man gave the others a warning sort of look.

// … and now… for the medical portion of the interview… //

Dean Finlay seemed to take it as a sign she was to takeover, waiving two of the young doctors forward to give her unwilling patient a quick examination. Kuja put up with the poking and prodding as well as he could, having no energy to growl as he wanted. It was strange to note the students were almost nervous in their handling of him. At first he thought it was just that they were performing under-fire, their mentor watching them like a hawk.  It wasn't until he looked up and caught General Gerrik's suspicious look that the pieces began to fit together.

// … They're nervous about /me/…? //

Looking down, he wasn't really that surprised to note that he was now wearing a clean cotton smock instead of the wrinkled remains of whatever it had been from days before. His tail stirred beneath the sheets, betraying a single twitch of nervous energy. It was enough to make the soldier jump although the others were more restrained. Kuja watched the older woman closely but couldn't gage her expression at all. "I see… and does the Duke know?"

"…Yes."

"Who else?"

"These two, him, we think that's all."  The genome spared a glance at both of her students and the studiously bored-looking officer. "I imagine rumor would be flying by now if it had leaked to the court."

// Man with monkey tail seduces general and attempts military coup? I think not. //

"Fair enough. At least you had the decency not to hang me on sight."

"What /are/ you?!"  Gerrik interrupted the woman before she could manage a reply, his own curiosity getting the better of him. "Are you one of /them/?"

"Them who?" He wasn't in the mood for guessing games, deciding it was better to get the inevitable questions over with. 

"The Selwe."

"Do I look like an insect to you?"

"You could be a spy…"

"To what end?"

"Secret assault on the city!"

"… While at the same time guiding Laro's army to victory?" He smirked. "A little, counter productive, don't you think?"

"You could be winning our confidence… for a later trap…"

"Unlikely. Why bother when there are so many easier ways."

"You confess it!"

"I confess that I am a strategist. Anyone in my position could come up with dozens of opportunities where I could have sabotaged your war. Killing the Kai before he left for example… that would have been ideal…"

// Or marching him to his death at the earliest opportunity, but I'd like to think he would see a flaw that grand before blindly walking into it… He's soft-hearted, not an idiot. //

"Stop it, general. He's not one of them… either by blood or sympathy." The dean frowned in displeasure, sending the doctors away. She mustered an almost apologetic smile. "We did draw some blood, Mr. Kuja… but mostly to try and make a diagnosis…"

He slouched back on his pillow and waved her away. "I figured that from the soreness… what say the good doctors?"

"We're waiting for Ing…" 

"You doubt your expertise?"

"We… are not sure what we have found…"

"Liar." He reprimanded gently. His arms felt strangely light, almost buoyant, as he reached up to try and smooth his hair back from his face. "Tell me? I am curious to know what you think."

"You are aware of your illness?"

"I am." He smirked again at her flustered state, but was soon proved out maneuvered as she produced a notebook and pencil from her pocket. 

"Then you won't mind giving a listing of your symptoms."

Shooting Gerrik a quelling look, he closed his eyes and recited what he could remember of the past few weeks, confident that the others knew, or could extrapolate most of it without him. When done he could only shrug. "… and now, if you'd be so kind as to tell me what you've found?"

The dean gave him a helpless look. "Very well… when we determined there was nothing wrong with your lungs, we took a blood sample… it was… irregular to say the least."

"Continue." He had always had a rather morbid sense of curiosity. It had served him well in the past as he had constructed monsters from the Mist, and the dregs of Mist. Now that the creature under study was himself, there was a certain ironic amusement to it.

"Blood, well our blood -- and yours as well, we think -- is supposed to have a certain volume to it, and quantity of iron…"

"For the transportation of oxygen to muscle and tissue, yes. Red cells and white cells, I am familiar with this concept."

"You've studied medicine?"

"Indeed."

"Fascinating. Ing said nothing of that."

"I did not see fit to tell him."

"He'll scold you in person then. Anyway, are you familiar with the condition of Anemia?"

"I am anemic then?"

"Severely so. Your blood cell count is unnaturally low, and those cells you have aren't carrying enough oxygen to keep you functioning in anything but the most calm and unharried manner."

"Fascinating." He drew his knees up and rested his chin on them. He couldn't help but note the look of confusion on the soldier's face as he listened to them banter. "Conclusions?"

"A person's blood remakes itself completely every fourteen days, it is said." Finlay shrugged eloquently, "Yours isn't. We don't know why it has stopped, or why it happened so suddenly."

"A disease of the bone, then." Yet again his knowledge seemed to shake the woman. Idly he wondered just how advanced their medical science was. "That is… not beyond the realm of possibility. I was wondering if it would be something like that…"

"What do you mean?"

"Some genetic flaw… At first I was thinking maybe I was just reacting to the Net in some unforeseen way… but if it is this… then it wouldn't be the Net at all…" He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed by the simplicity of it all. 

*************************  

"Mail, sir."  

The messenger caught up with them as they paused for lunch, on the horizon already was a new black spire. Laro simply nodded to the man, grabbing the envelope full of papers and immediately fishing out the orders and latest assessment. The official word wasn't anything surprising. He would have continued for the next Tower with or without guidance from home, but when he read the strategic report he was disappointed to note that it lacked it recent calm authority. The very tone of the document implied there was someone new studying the maps. The general felt a moment's disappointment as he tossed the paper aside, knowing that it had been too much to hope for that he have a useful ally back in the castle. Instead he turned to the reports from Ibat and the college, noting that his present had arrived unhindered and in good condition. 

Passing the relevant envelopes to his officers, he haphazardly tipped the remains of the packet into his lap, stirring through the random personal notes from Finlay and the others without wanting to bother with them yet, looking for a particular bundle in the mess. They only had an hour to rest and eat before moving on to the next leg of the march, and before he did he had time for one letter. If he had to choose between Masa and the dean, he would take pleasure over substance. Even sorted into haphazard stacks, he couldn't find what he wanted. His customary packet of letters from his lover was nowhere to be found.

// Did I drop them? // 

A quick search of the ground proved fruitless, and perplexed, he carefully put everything back in the packet in order to check again. 

// … no letters. // 

 It was jarring to say the least. He couldn't help but sigh in disappointment. The deliveryman flinched in dismay.

"They were missing when I got it, sir. I swear."

Looking up, Laro blinked in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"The letters… I didn't loose them. They weren't there when I got it." 

"What letters?"

The young soldier swallowed guiltily. "The… ones that usually come all bundle up in a set? With the pretty hand writing?"

"… I see."

"We don't read them, sir!" The man cringed. "We just keep an eye on them… make sure they don't get lost… I mean… they're special…"

"Thank you… that's a relief then." Laro managed a smile he really didn't feel. "Wouldn't like to think they were scattered on a highway somewhere."

"Oh no sir…" He shrugged, "Maybe Mr. Kuja just missed the delivery deadline and you'll get two packs next time?"

"Yes, that's probably it." It was hard to take offence at people's interest in his private life when it meant that his mail had thus far arrived with special care. He was sure once the shock had passed he would feel grateful for the humble service they had done him.  He dismissed the man with a smile. Standing, Laro decided he might as well use the remaining time to do something productive. Even if the missing letters weren't a simple accident, there was little he could do about it now.

************************* 

Kuja hated to admit that he was bored. He had energy enough to be productive, so long as it didn't require him doing more than moving around his room, and as a result he now found himself spending far too much time there. 

He set his letter aside, not sure how to maintain a falsely cheerful tone for the length of it that would be convincing enough for his lover.  It didn't make sense to trouble the man with things, not when he had his own worries to deal with. He didn't have long to ponder his forced inaction however. The Duke thoughtfully sent him a distraction for the afternoon, a present of Gerrik and a map. The still-suspicious man watched him as he studied the faithfully copied terrain and waited for inspiration to strike. He was unusually silent, and Kuja actually found himself missing their old backbiting. 

"You've been overly generous with your respect lately, general… has the wolf been brought to bay by the idea of a tail?"

Gerrik refused to flinch at the reminder. "You told Finlay that you came from a different world… from the stars."

"Yes."

"Like the Selwe did."

"Well, they came in a ship, I did not, but otherwise, yes that is an accurate assessment."

"How."

"Magic, of course."

"Oh." 

Kuja put his papers down with a sigh, feeling tired already as he tucked the quilt higher about his waist. "Was there something in particular you wanted to know?"

The general fidgeted and then managed a ghost of his usual cynical smile. Whatever he had been about to ask was deferred however as a new delegation arrived. With Ing, and Finlay, the number of doctors in the room was approaching absurd. Sparing an amused look for Duke Riquoi, he refused to let the others rattle him. Choosing to ignore them, he handed his drawing back to its owner.

"Your map, sir."

"Any thoughts?"

"None save that he should continue as he has done, he is the best judge of the terrain he faces and the scouts needed to secure it." 

"Fair enough." Tucking the drawing in a pocket, the old man settled in a chair, clearly part of the audience rather than a principal speaker. 

Feeling rather silly, Kuja looked at the rest of the new arrivals, waiting for them to speak their peace or at least sit down. The diminutive doctor looked rather serious, but given his patient and the illness, he had his reasons. 

No one seemed willing to be the first to speak, so with a sigh he relented. "Prognosis, Sirs and Madams?"

Ing sighed unhappily reaching out to read the silver-haired man's pulse more out of habit than for any other reason. "Not good, I'm afraid."

"I'm dying then."

"We could still find a cure."

"There is no cure for old age." He smiled whimsically. Now that Finlay's guesses had been confirmed he saw no reason to deny it. The sooner the others gave up on their futile searches, the sooner they could concentrate on being productive with the time he had left. 

"What do you mean, Kuja." It was the Duke who found his voice first, genuinely curious. "You can't be more than thirty, if anyone is in incipient danger of withering away in this room, I'd believe it was me."

"Never the less… I do not think this is an unscheduled illness. If anything I have outlasted expectations… A man in good health may last a century, a flower is lucky to last a week, a tree may last a millennium, and a mayfly comes and goes in a day… myself…? I was expected to last maybe twenty-six, twenty-seven years… I am /old/, my lord… even if it doesn't seem that way to you."

Ing snorted in disbelief. "If that were the case, I'd expect a more systematic shut down, not a sudden change… as it is, if we could find you a compatible donor, you could survive indefinitely, or even make a full recovery… There's nothing wrong with you, outside of your bones."

"And where would you find such a donor?"

"That we do not know."

Kuja sank back into his pillows with a sigh. "Then causes and cures are really not worth discussing, are they… how long?"

"If you behave? Maybe a week or two before you blood gives up all together."

"In that case, I suggest you employ me to the best of your ability." The genome smirked. "You have little time."

************************* 

Laro looked up from a hasty conference with his commanders along the edge of the burnt-out waste of a forest when someone called his name. Around them lay the remains of an ugly skirmish, hulking shells strewn like boulders as teams slowly completed the task of clearing them to the side.  It was one scout patrol that would not be reporting back the Tower anytime soon.  Leaving strategy and the rough map of twigs and lumps of charcoal behind, he rose to greet the unlikely looking delegation. One of his trucks had finally returned, its driver stubbornly glaring at the officer of the watch, awaiting his chance to speak.

"I'm sorry to interrupt sir, but the sergeant says he has an urgent delivery from the capital… your eyes only… I told him he could leave it with me… but…"

"I have orders from the Duke himself, sir," he said to the sergeant. Turning to his general, "…Sir," he repeated more respectfully. 

To Laro's surprise and delight, the gruff man reached inside his jacket and produced a carefully bundled set of letters. "With the Duke's compliments, and an apology for the delay."

"…Thank you. Both of you. That was uncommonly kind." Dismissing them both, he turned back to the task of planning a safe route through the flats with a feeling of utter wellbeing.  

// Riquoi didn't have to do that… I could have waited the two weeks for a normal parcel… //

The duke had wedged a letter of his own in the tidy stack, but flipping quickly through the other envelopes, he was pleased to see that they were indeed the missing letters, and even an extra – dated two days after the post should have been sent – he would have one fewer letters to look forward to on the next mail run, but that was nothing compared to the relief of having the notes safely in hand. 

// … unnecessary but still… it's nice to know that they're still looking out for me… even if it is a little embarrassing… //

Tucking the papers into one of his deep pockets he resolved to read them later, and signaled his scouts out into the field. The sooner they got to safe camp, the sooner he could relax with news from home before plotting the next battle.

*************************  

It was rather entertaining to watch the old man set up shop bit by bit in his sitting room. Kuja had only blinked the first time he noticed the spare table that had been snuck in during one of his naps. On the second day, he had been bundled in quilts on the couch reading reports while the Duke dealt with a parade like flow of secretaries, military liaisons and bureaucrats. Laughingly he had offered to move his sick-bed to the old nobleman's study, only to be given the man's classic patriarchal glare. Touched, but not cowed, he had replied with a smirk before returning to his reading. By the third day, the ancient courtier had claimed his couch as well, dozing off after lunch amidst the most recent set of reports. 

He wasn't the only one seemingly determined to 'move in' despite the silver-haired man's protests.  The younger of Dean Finlay's two doctors, a pretty woman named Anne, had set up a cot on the far side of the sitting room. She seemed determined to be on hand any time of day or night, despite the general consensus that the effort was futile. The doctor made for a convenient set of extra hands however, and given that he could no longer trust his own at times, he didn't begrudge her company. After the first few hours, he even decided he liked her. She was clever in her quiet way, but also still young enough to be susceptible to teasing, unlike the older doctors.

// … Almost reminds me of one of those crazy inventor-girls from Lindblum, brainy… but nice… and wicked card players… //

At the moment they were both thankfully absent, whisked away to dinner and the hospital respectively. It left him with the least frequent of his recent nursemaids for a few hours. 

Gerrik was probably hoping he would fall asleep and leave him in peace. For a while he considered humoring the man but the grumpy set of the soldier's features reminded him for a bizarre moment of Steiner, and he started to laugh. It was impossible to explain to the general about how utterly stupid the knight had been, and what exactly had made him so fun to harass. Instead he could only wave off the sullen look and force himself to behave.

"… You really don't want to be here, do you…?"

"I've never been good at dealing with sick people."

"Heh. I know the feeling." Kuja fussed with his quilt a moment before letting his hands go limp. He was beginning to find getting out of bed a struggle. "To tell the truth, I'm not too happy to be here either… I thought I'd be out on the front by now… 'Die in battle,' and all that…"

"You?! You're kidding."

"Sometimes it feels like I spent my whole life fighting wars… or preparing for them." He lay back with a sigh, "It seems strange to be dying so peacefully… It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"I can't see you as a fighter." The young general's expression was all mild astonishment. "You're just…"

"Too 'girly' you think?" The silver haired man smirked wickedly.  "I used magic, idiot. Do I /look/ like a boxer to you?"

"No, no I guess not." Gerrik rested his chin on his hand. "I've never seen magic… just heard stories…"

"I always rather enjoyed it… the freedom of it… Not that it matters now." He shrugged. "When Laro first told me of the Net, I thought that if there was a way around it, then maybe… damn but I hate this… I should be doing something, anything, instead of waiting to die… I had it all planned out!"

"Did you?" The soldier blinked, startled by the outburst that so closely echoed his own feelings. "All this time, you've been trying to set it up so that you'd have an excuse to go? Is /that/ what you've been maneuvering towards?"

"Didn't you know?" Blue eyes fixed the man in place with a candid glance. "I was your 'opportunity' too, after all… Why else insinuate yourself with me if not to hitch a ride when the chance came?"

"I… actually… I just…"  Thrown by the news, Gerrik felt foolish admitting he had actually been intending to use the man as a piece of blackmail instead of as any friendlier lever back into the war. Compared to Kuja's more elegant and productive schemes, it seemed trite.

"Never mind. You'll have to fend for yourself it seems. I apologize for the inconvenience my death brings you." Kuja shrugged. "I expect you'll find another way, you seem clever enough."

"You're giving up, then?" It didn't feel right, the soldier decided as he watched his old adversary's listless movements. The courtesan had never been one to take 'no' for an answer.

"I tried fighting fate once.  It… didn't work out. Why make a fool of myself a second time?"

Having nothing to say to that, the soldier could only sit in silence until the others returned to relieve him.  Looking back as he left, he couldn't help but wince at how frail looking the pale man had become.

*************************  

Dust and smoke made the air almost un-breathable. Even with the damp rags knotted around his face, Laro found that the acrid smell was permanently burned into his nose. Guiding his men more by touch than by any chance of being heard above the roar of mortars he got the team heading the right direction, into a convenient alcove off the stairs and ready to set up a defense as the first of the massive-shelled drones trundled down the stairs to meet them.  The Selwe definitely had a weight advantage in their charge down the steep staircase, added legs also gave them an edge when it came to footing. Meeting them head on would be a painful inevitability, but he could see no reason why to not let them waste a few dozen of their ranks in a headlong plunge to the bottom of the Tower. His regular army would be sure to give any survivors a proper welcome, and in the mean time, his specialists could continue up the stairs to face less resistance above. 

The attack had proven more difficult this time. Laro couldn't help but worry that their assault on the Tower would need to be aborted midway. Something in the movements of the opposing army was more directed than it had been before, almost as if they weren't simply reacting to the attack, but were actively seeking ways to out maneuver him. It was an uncanny feeling, that he was being watched, studied, plotted against. Usually the insects were more predictable in their methods and movements. So far the opposing forces had refused to fall for several of his tricks, and even now seemed to be amassing for an attack.  

His radio chirped a near continuous stream of reports from where it was tied to his shoulder guard. Tilting his head, he listened with half his attention while signaling his men upwards, pikes at the ready. They would have to move fast if they wanted to decommission the tower before retreating back to the relative safety of the foothills. 

// No finesse this time. We'll be lucky if we can manage a smash-and-grab job… //

Following the soldiers up the slippery stairs, he arrived in time to firmly apply his spear to the cause. Another alcove had revealed five more of their giant opponents, several of whom were pinning his men in place as the others sprinted ahead. He sighed and stepped in before an alien could skewer one of his soldier. No one would be wounded of he could help it, not when the risk of being left behind was so high. The heavy weight of his weapon easily crushed the delicate shell encasing the drone's head, staving it inwards in a wet mess. Ichor pooled down the shell from the massive wound, liberally coating him and his captain, but with the attack diverted the man was still alive to complain about it.

"Go after the others, leave the mopping to me."

"Yessir," The soldier ducked up the stairs and around the last drone to rush after the others.  

Taping the point of his spear against the wall to knock the majority of goo clear, Laro calmly jabbed his final opponent, making sure the insect's attention was firmly on him and not the people scurrying up the stairs. Its shattered carcass was soon kicked down the spiraled path to join with the rest.  

*************************  

Carris Finlay was full of cautious good humor as she made her way through the bustle of the halls to the quieter sanctuary of the courtesan's rooms.  Despite Riquoi's stubborn desire to be 'on hand' for his latest disciple, the chaos of politics and paper seemed remarkably subdued. Even with the day-to-day chores, no one seemed to forget the other occupant of the small suite, and his delicate health. She nodded to the old nobleman in greeting, but didn't bother to disturb his impromptu meeting with his staff. Instead she let herself into the bedroom with a gentle knock to visit the man inside.

"Good morning Dean Finlay," her student stood immediately at her approach, setting her book aside.

"He's still asleep?"

"No, he woke earlier… but he is quite drowsy today, and has been dozing on and off… I don't see any reason not to give him a nudge. He'd probably like the company."

Giving the courtesan her own quick inspection, she had to agree. He didn't particularly worse than the day before, just paler and weaker and that was to be expected.

// …and dear god and we still haven't figured out what to tell Laro… What do we do? Continue forging letters until the end of the war? He'll have to come back sometime… better to tell him sooner than later isn't it? //  

The idea of the general having news like that broken to him on the battlefield seemed like an extraordinarily bad idea. She had thought the man devoted to his lover before Ing had arrived to fill her in on the details. There was nothing to relish about the idea of taking away the Kai's very reason to keep on living. If even half of Ing's guesses about the general's physical and spiritual recovery were correct, that was exactly what they were about to do.

// Maybe Riquoi has the right idea after all… say nothing… get all the 'fight' we can out of him… and then… break it to him as gently as possible… //

She frowned. 

// So he'll come home… only to find out he has nothing to come home for? Oh, marvelous…. Excellent strategy… //

It was better to worry about such things when their time came. Reaching down, she gently shook one of the slender shoulders, aware of how readily the fragile skin would bruise with her touch. "Mr. Kuja…"

"… hello."

"Do you feel up to a little investigation for me, little one?"

"I'm an invalid, not a child… 'little one'… bah… What do you want me to look at…?"

The dean placed her hands firmly in her pockets to resist the urge to ruffle the pale man's loose hair.  She didn't usually have motherly impulses; it was silly to give in to them now. "I have recently received into my possession the Shard from Laro's latest conquest. Remarkably it's even intact…"

"Interesting." His drawled comment made her smile.

"What's really interesting… is that twice a day, my students have noticed that it tends to randomly emit low level burst energy, but we cannot determine why."  She shrugged thoughtfully before continuing. 

"Maybe it is the Selwe trying to reestablish contact with it. Maybe it is a sympathetic response to one of the other Towers still standing… maybe something else entirely… but I remember that you seemed to have a knack with crystals from your work on the cannons… so I wondered if you would be interested in seeing it for yourself?"

"…Spontaneous activation…? Strange… I would like to see it… but it may prove difficult to convince my keepers to let me out to play…" He waved a hand at where the young doctor sat listening. "Anne here is most obstinate that I 'save my strength'… although for what, she will not tell me."

The dean chuckled at her companion's sour tone. Human or not, Kuja was still the same.  Ing's assurances about the circumstance of his arrival and treatment had allayed most of her fears, if only because it made no sense that the boy could be a threat. Maybe had things been less desperate she could have had a choice to be picky. Given her options, deciding to continue to trust the courtesan hadn't seemed like such a risk. 

"Luckily for us then, the reaction doesn't seem to have anything to do with location… outside or in the basement; we've observed the same effect. Your room is as good a place as any to try next."  Carris smiled at his doubtful look. "I'll have the students set it up wherever you like, give you a chance to study it at your leisure."

"I… will look forward to it…"

"Good, in that case, I'll let you resume your nap while I go badger the 'corpse' to see what he plans to do with my budget this spring…" Leaving patient and attendant behind, she made her exit with a smile. 

It was unlikely that the courtesan would discover anything of interest about the strange glow from the crystal fragment. More likely than anything, it was just tuned to the same frequency as the Selwe communication channels and so was picking of a ghost of the messages the Towers relayed back and forth. Her students would decode it eventually, but in the mean time, it couldn't hurt to keep the man's agile mind occupied. Morbidly, she wondered how much longer such distractions would be necessary.

*************************  

The crystal was a relatively unexciting piece of rock as it was brought in carefully cradled between two scientists. A third man followed behind with a sort of tripod for the massive stone, setting up after a moment's hesitation within reach of the bed. Still groggy from his nap, Kuja watched the hushed maneuvers in silence. The Shard was a larger cousin to the fragments he had worked with in the weeks before, a slab of mineral deposit almost the size of a dinner tray which was set up on edge in an approximation of how it must have been positioned in its Tower. 

"… If everything is the same as yesterday, it will begin to flare in an hour or so…" 

Curious, he nodded in agreement. "I will watch for it… thank you." 

Once they were gone he gave into the temptation to look closer, even Anne wasn't immune. She put her book down to investigate, opening the curtains as she moved about the room to shed more light on his puzzle. The smoky white crystal was interesting enough in the sunlight, but laying his hand on it he could feel no remarkable energy patterns. It was just a rock after all, not like the source of all-memory he had threatened and been defeated by in the depth of space. Copying his gesture, the curious doctor also ran a finger along the smooth face of the slab before looking at the more irregular edges on the sides.

"It looks like it was split off something with a lateral grain, doesn't it?"

"Geologist as well as healer?"

"I went to school…" Embarrassed at having spoken up, the dark woman blushed. "It's just… it looks like a piece of something larger, doesn't it? The way it fractured…"

"Who can say where the Selwe got their materials from…" He shrugged complacently. "However they came by it, we are just interested in its use… something that's only good twice a day seems like rather a waste… and why the odd hours?" Musing he shifted his pillows to act as a prop. 

"What's so special about ten in the morning and two hours until midnight I wonder, or is it just coincidence…"

"They'll figure it out eventually, I guess." Anne gave up on prodding the un-reactive crystal in favor of ringing the bell for a servant. "I'll just get us some lunch while we wait?" She ignored his long-suffering grumble with professional ease, tidying up the room and retucking him into the bed before the food arrived.

The meal wasn't the ordeal he expected it to be. For once his stomach was in a cooperative mood, or perhaps just didn't have the strength left to complain anymore. He managed some soup and drank his tea with relative pleasure while watching his keeper daintily pick through her stew and fruit. To amuse himself he imagined her in a little sailor cap and uniform shirt of the style he had seen often on the streets of Lindblum and Trueno, deciding she'd fit right in after all. Baiting her into a quick game of cards, they spent an amusing half hour keeping score before she looked up from her hand only to blink in surprise.

"I think it's time."

Turning to see what she was staring at, he too was impressed with the change taking place within the surface of the massive crystal. Light seemed to be gathering and swirling, a mini aurora borealis taking place inside the smoky gem. Curious, he shifted on his bed until he was close enough to touch it once more. A tingle in his skin telling him that something more impressive than a simple lightshow was taking place. Hesitant, he ran a finger along the cool stone, uncertain of what would happen. To his surprise, the tingle only grew stronger, familiar.

// It's not the Crystal… but an echo of it…? //  

Looking back, he couldn't exactly remember the grim night he had spent tending Laro's bed side. It had been late, well after sunset when he had managed his epiphany and thus the soldier's cure. The exact hour had never seemed important until now.

// Echos… it /is/ the Crystal.// 

Palm pressed flat to the glowing shard, he closed his eyes trying to match his will to the stone's weak emanations in order to better understand their nature. The riddle unfolded with a little effort. Already tuned to be used as transmitters, each of the Shards supporting the alien's shield seemed to act as receivers not just for each other but for any energy field they came in contact with. 

Natural amplifiers, they also resonated when the planet rotated so as to be in reach of the massive life-source's rays. Even impossibly far as it was, the Crystal's field was unmistakably enough to trigger a response in the stones. Kuja blinked as he understood the weakness of the connection. The only reason he hadn't noticed the energy echo before must have been that the shards he had handled were too small to generate a field worth noticing. 

// Alignment…? Twice every revolution of the planet… we are in proper alignment for the energy to seep through the Net… but you have to be sensitive enough to feel it. Like the Shards, or me...? //

Looking at the light dancing beneath his fingers, he couldn't help but smile. "It's a natural phenomenon."

// But how is it getting this far? We're nowhere near any of the gaps in the Net… days away from the ocean with mountains between… the front isn't much closer… I don't understand… is it reflected somehow? //

His companion glanced at him in surprise, breaking off her own studies to frown in worry. "How do you know it's natural?"

"I just do… I believe it has to do perhaps with the location of the moon… and other things…"  He wasn't quite ready to admit that he was able to commune with vast reservoirs of magical energy from beyond the sky. He had enough strange looks aimed at him these days as it was. 

"Is it useful do you think?" 

Kuja tilted his head as he considered the doctor's question. "Certainly it implies that if they really are communication crystals they would be receiving a lot of interference right now. Maybe we could use that as an advantage, but I expect that the Towers are shielded against outside sources…" 

Reaching out with his mind, he gently tried to tap into the flickering energy; amazed when it responded to his coaxing touch. There was magic in the milky depths. Not alive itself, the Shard was a tiny conduit through which he could pull strength. He could have kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner.

// Magic, you fool… its right there… like an elixir in its purest form and without the horrible candy-syrup aftertaste… what are you waiting for? //

The genome had no more than begun to siphon off the gentle energy before the stone began to flicker erratically beneath his fingers and fell silent once more. He could have cried in frustration. 

Anne pulled back in surprise. "… It stopped… I guess that was what the guys meant when they said it wouldn't last very long…"

"It seems so." Kuja clenched his fist against the tingle of energy he still felt in his palm, the tiny amount of power he had been able to gather before the connection had been lost. "… I guess we will have to wait another twelve hours to see it again."

She sighed thoughtfully. "Well, it was certainly pretty, whatever it was."

"Yes. I should definitely like to study it once more…"

// And next time, I won't waste time asking questions… //

It wasn't enough for a healing spell, he decided as he settled back on his pillows to rest.  The droplets of magic were barely enough for anything, but they felt reassuring as they slowly fused with his tired body, filling him with a warmth he had sorely missed. He found himself drifting to sleep in spite of the thoughts flying wildly around his head. Someone, or something, had been kind enough to show him a possible way out. In twelve more hours he would see just how generous the fates would be. It was something he decided, that was definitely worth the wait.

************************* 

*************************

Don't mind me, just rushing the story right along…

--Lunar.


	18. Shield you from Dangers

Feather Flight: **Shield you from Dangers (part 18)**

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

***** 

Quick Recap: Aliens!

_(more for my benefit than anyone else but what the hell) _

_Diggers_: (crawlers) massive centipede looking beasts, the longest can be the size of a football field. They can burrow through soft soil or stampede along harder surfaces. Not terribly bright, they are only a danger when you come in range. Exceptionally hard to kill.

_Stingers_: most mobile of the attack forces. Hornet like aliens armed with natural weapons and acidic spit. Smarter than diggers and possessing a hive-awareness, not great on stamina.

_Drones_: Armored beetle type aliens composing the bulk of the Selwe army. Not as fast or mobile as stingers, but larger and meaner. They can carry weapons ranging from primitive pikes and spears to more advanced energy lances.

_Dreadnaughts_: Superior type of drone, slower moving with additional armor and more developed fore-claws can be found rarely, usually protecting things of great importance….

_Assaults_: Spider type, very large, extremely dangerous but lucky very rare… 

_Mentors_: (generals) rarest type of aliens that human's can encounter excepting the queen who is still in space. No one knows much about them except Laro… and he wishes he didn't…

***** 

Even with the haze and grit blowing in off the flat lands, Laro could see well enough to get the general idea of what was happening.  Whether he could believe it or not was still a matter of internal debate.  The ranking camp officer to his left stared through the telescope and swore softly in amazement. "… They can't do that!"

"They /are/ doing it."

"But they've /never/ done that… they… just… don't…"

The general was hard pressed not to agree. If anything he wanted to swear long and hard, or failing that, go curl up in his tent and pretend that he couldn't understand what he was seeing.  The battalion he had send out to test the enemy line was stubborn, he granted his men that, any more stubborn and he would have to explicitly order their retreat.  Veterans on the field, they had to be just at stunned as everyone else at the change of tactics on the part of their enemy.

// Hell, /any/ evidence of tactics is a nasty surprise… //

What had been hinted at for the past week was becoming undeniable. He watched the Selwe line flicker again, different forces moving together seamlessly in a joint attack, fast moving aerial units buzzing up and over, drawing the long-range fire away from the equally deadly ground force. Stingers /and/ drones, coordinated together? It was unthinkable, and that was before someone in the field reported back that the normally erratic flying alien attack-force had gotten the clever idea of carrying rocks aloft.  The splintered shale of the region was brittle and unimpressive up close, but when a chunk the size of a man's head was dropped from a hundred feet up, the resulting shards and dust were a serious menace.  

If someone had asked him yesterday if the stingers could carry anything into the air with them, much less invent make-shift bombs for themselves, he would have laughed.  Nobody was laughing now.

"… This is ridiculous, pull the men back, they're demoralized. Trying to gain ground today isn't going to accomplish anything. "

"…yessir!"  

Laro sighed, watching as his order was passed through the officers and down to the men in the field via the radio. If the Selwe were suddenly going to stop acting like Selwe… a change in thinking would have to be in order. 

Looking down he consulted the map. There was still a day's travel before the other half of the army would move into range. Considering their options, there were worse things than to just hole-up with what shelter they had, and let things sit for half a day. "… call council. I want all senior officers in my tent in time for the 12th's return… Obviously there are some developments we need to discuss." 

He turned to where his aide was fidgeting. "… get a message out to Ibat-kai. I want to know if he's seeing any of this too…"

"Yes sir."

"Captain, make sure the scout is aware that he may be attacked."

"But he won't be going anywhere near where the…" The young man watched as the black armored insects deliberately harried and pursued the retreating column of men. No longer simply passively defending, or attacking in slow patterns, they were a genuinely menacing sight. "… you think they'll start /looking/ for scouts?"

Laro scrubbed some of the dust from his face and mustered a ghost of a smile. "To be honest, I don't know what to think. But if Ibat is seeing even half of what we're seeing… we're in a hell of a lot of trouble."

"Yessir." Leaving him to his thoughts, the officer ducked his head and jogged back towards the main camp. 

The dark man watched his enemy as their attacks pulled up short at the broken ground of the bluffs.  If they had been blindly charging as popular wisdom expected, they would have come up onto the cracked stone hillsides and been easy pickings as they lost their footing. They /always/ followed, it was what they /did/.  

He hissed in disbelief as the leading group of aliens stopped decisively just short of the rocks, the rest of the attack-group forming ranks behind them. They weren't following. Instead-- he didn't know how he knew but-- he could have sworn they were listening for something.  Even the stingers, capable of winging over the rough terrain and harassing his troops further, did not continue the attack.  Held back by an invisible leash they refused to come past the line of their ground support. 

It was a sensible decision, a logical decision. If he had been the one attacking, instead of defending, he might have made an identical choice. Without the ground troops to force his men to divide their fire between attackers on land and in air, the more fragile stingers would be decimated.  That too was popular wisdom, the basic tactics that had been the army's bread and butter for two decades. 

// Why the hell aren't they attacking? They /never/ learn. That's part of the game. They do the same old thing, but do it very well… and we think of new and crazy ways to get around their thing… who the hell decided they could change the rules…? // 

Behind him he could hear the rumble of a scout vehicle being primed and released, its driver hammering the throttle for all it could give. At least the men were equally alarmed by the dramatic shift.  That could be an advantage when the time came. 

// It's almost as if the bugs are under some sort of localized control, or hell, thinking for themselves… if they are capable of such a thing. //  

The thought left him cold. Some among the Selwe /were/ capable of independent thought, but he was probably the only human alive to have ever witnessed it. Dreams of his time imprisoned in the tower were bad enough at night; he didn't need to have waking-nightmares as well.  The memory was stubborn however, whispering dire prophesies in the back of his head as he went through the motions of supervising his men. 

Suspicion without proof was simply paranoia, but on the other hand, who better than him to recognize the symptom for what it was?  The need to talk to his old mentor was strong. Ibat's perspective on things was safely impartial, unlike his own emotionally charged memories.

"Easy now," He caught one of his younger officers by the shoulder as the man darted by with the scent of fear about him. "It'll be all right. Don't overreact."

"Yes sir!"  The lieutenant must have seen something to gain hope from in his expression. Laro wished he knew what it was he was exuding, and whether or not he could convince himself as well. 

***** 

"Kuja?" 

The voice seemed to be coming from rather far away. Idly he wondered how he had fallen down the well, and then who was it who was calling to him? Echoes played off each other in strangely telling patterns. "Kuja? Are you all right?"

Gradually reality bled back into existence. He blinked as the blurry pale blob resolved into the familiar lines of the ceiling. The moonlight streaming in through the open curtains was almost bright enough to read by. Thanks to it, and weaker lamp light, most of the room was recognizable, even with eyes that refused to focus on anything for very long. Raising his head, he gradually checked himself over, noting in amusement that even comatose as he must have been, his right hand was still firmly pressed against the smooth surface of the shard. "… That's…" The genome blinked again, trying to gather his thoughts. "… a very good question."

"Mister Kuja?" Anne was leaning over him; worried frown and all. ".. Oh thank god… for a second I thought…"  The young doctor gently pulled his hand off the still flickering shard and checked it for burns. She was very careful to not touch the platter-sized stone almost as if afraid it would bite. 

"…what… happened?" His skin itched.  For a moment he swore he could feel the strange tingle even beneath his fingernails, even inside the hollows of his ears. Energized, replete, almost swollen, the sensation was both invigorating and unpleasant.

"The shard… did that thing it did… and you … and… light… and… then…" She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, nervous after her patient's close brush with disaster. "… I'd better take your pulse."

Sitting up, Kuja allowed the examination mostly because he still felt too light headed to refuse. There was something very grounding in the practical touch on his wrist and cool feel of stethoscope on his chest. 

"…the crystal…?" That did it. Memory snapped together into a tidy display. Eyes following thoughts, he almost jerked out of her grip to turn and examine the window. "Of course!"

The doctor could only blink in confusion. Ignoring her, the silver-haired man looked down at his hands. For the first time since Gaia something stirred, currents of energy ready and waiting to be spun into whatever he could ask for. "… It seems I overindulged."

"You were glowing. Was that supposed to happen?"

"No." Amused he made a fist and relaxed it, feeling the magical current beneath his skin shift and flow with the muscle. "… but if you give me a minute? Yes."

"What?" Reaching the end of her ability to cope, the woman moved towards the bell pull to summon the others. "Don't move. You don't sound like yourself… You may be in shock… you're pulse is higher than it should be…"

Anne kept on talking, but her words were easy enough to filter out. It would take too long to explain anyway. Kuja lifted his fingers to his forehead, an unnecessary gesture, but one that had been habit for so long he found he couldn't gather his thoughts without it. 

// Now… Curaga to heal? Or Life to revive…?  What the hell, why not one of each… //

The spells' incandescent effect, flaring to life one after the next, put the timid lamps to shame.  He sighed happily as any number of things inside his uncooperative body suddenly shook themselves off and got back on the job with enthusiasm. Looking around, he wondered if the unexpected magic might have scared the poor doctor out of the room.  

Anne hadn't made it as far as the door. Reacting to the sudden flash of light as if it was an explosion, the woman had huddled on the floor with her arms protecting her face. 

He took pity on her and reached down to pat her shoulder. "… It's over."

"… Am I dead?"

"Hardly." The side effect of a massive dose of healing energy through the body was invariably a bad case of the jitters. It was near midnight, but he felt wide-awake and alert, in all likelihood he'd end up insomniac until morning thanks to the potent combination of spells. The mage couldn't help but want to get up and move around, and in a moment of perfect happiness he realized he could. Knees cooperative for the first time in weeks, he slid out of bed and padded into the bathroom to wash his face.  His companion was still patting herself down for injury when he returned. "… Relax woman. It was only magic."

"… magic?"

"Yes. But that's not important." 

"… important?"  Staring at him in awe, it was the best she could do to parrot.

Kuja bit his cheek to keep from chuckling. The sooner the health-inspired giddiness faded the better. Speaking slowly in order to penetrate her haze shock he tried again. "… I'm /hungry/, Anne. And I want to put on something more civilized than my sleep-shirt for a change. Be a good girl and go ring for some food for me in the parlor?" 

When words alone weren't enough, he gently shooed her towards the door to get her moving. Closing it firmly behind the still confused attendant, he paused to take stock, somehow hesitant to believe that anything would be so easy after months of tolerating the mundane.  

// …but then, that's how it goes with magic, isn't it… nothing… and then /something/ all in a moment… creation, destruction… or the end of the world… all with a snap of the fingers… // 

Weighing the amount of energy now softly vibrating in his fingers, he slowly readjusted to the fact that all things were once again possible. Everything he had been, he could be, if he wished it. There was nobody who could really stop him. Kuja smiled at the memory of his first heady days on Gaia. There had been a time when his plans for conquest had still been in their infancy. His only cares had been for learning the ways of the world so utterly alien to his own, and using his magic to do whatever he pleased, tasks both frivolous and serious alike.  

// And of course your self-centered view on things almost got that world consumed by Garland's ambition… Not so proud now, are we…besides… this strength… it's not really real… not /mine/ anyway. //

Moving over to the bed, he looked at the weighty slice of crystal, inspecting it for some sign of change. The surface was inert again, awaiting the next rotation of the planet to point it back towards its source. For a moment he worried that the magic he had siphoned off would damage the Crystal some how. The last thing he wanted was to ever get on the magical sentience's bad side again. One serious entanglement with Zidane had been more than enough.

// It's not like I was leeching… I mean… It was just radiating the stuff out in gobs anyway… it would have gotten soaked up by /something/… //   

Kuja left the worry for a moment when he had more luxury for it, turning to his closet instead.  He had no idea what the diminutive woman would tell her colleagues when they came running pell-mell down the hall, but he had a feeling that he only had so much time to get himself in order before someone knocked the door down in an unnecessary attempt to 'rescue' him.

The thought gave him a funny sort of feeling.  It sounded rather like something his brother's friends would do, had done. They had followed him into the heart of Garland's fortress on Terra, battered through barriers and mazes, for what? For the sake of an immature idiot who kept his brain in his pants, and his fists at the ready. If Zidane had been half the 'super-genome' he had been intended to be, he wouldn't have needed the little girl, the tin-soldier and all the others to tell him that he was an individual and thus beyond Garland's grasp. But that's what friends were for, a little niggling voice suggested to him; to look after, to worry about, to argue with and be amused by, all the while knowing it would be reciprocated in turn.  

// Rather like Laro and I… or even the Duke… //  

It was unnerving to realize he genuinely cared about people, worse to consider that they felt the same about him. Friends were for other people. He let the thought go just as he had on former occasions, still unsure of where it would lead. Clothing was far simpler to understand. Shirt, pants, boots, he left the robe unbelted and to hell with hiding the tail. It wasn't like they didn't already know about /that/ little embarrassment. 

// And thank you Garland for giving me such a useless accessory… //

Someone started banging on the door and he moved to intercept before they threw themselves at it. 

// Gerrik you idiot. //

Smirking, he pulled the obstacle open during a pause in the racket, fixing the frazzled soldier with a sardonic glare. "… Did you bring dinner then?" The man and the small crowd behind him could only stare in surprise.

"No? A pity. I feel I could eat a dragon."

***** 

There wasn't enough room at the small breakfast table for everyone who had responded to the youngest doctor's alarmed call. The Duke and Dr. Ing were given first choice of chairs. Riquoi had yet to go to sleep it seemed, as well groomed as ever as he watched his protégé daintily devour the better part of a fruit bowl and move on to the bread.  The doctor wasn't so lucky, looking winded after having sprinted down the hallway in nothing more than a bathrobe and slippers. He nervously smoothed his mustache as he tried to question Anne and her patient at the same time.  

// This is just too bizarre. //

Clay leaned against the doorframe, determined to be out of the way as he watched the spectacle unfold. They had pulled him out of bed for this? When the servants had come knocking, telling him he was needed upstairs, he had assumed the worst. Given Ing's state of disarray, and Dean Finlay's exasperated "What do you mean 'you feel fine?!'" as she burst into the room, he hadn't been the only one.  Seeming completely at ease with all the commotion being caused over him, Kuja simply waved her into another chair with his butter knife. 

"...  So you say it's magic…?" Doctor Ing looked from the girl back to the courtesan obviously not pleased with the short answers he had been given.  The silver-haired man certainly looked better than he had in weeks. His appetite at least was obviously improved. 

He devoured another jam-laden slice of bread before deciding to reply. "Yes. Well. It's not perfect… but as far as temporary fixes go, this one isn't bad at all." 

"… why didn't you do it sooner?"

"… well I tried this morning, but I wasn't fast enough…" The courtesan shrugged. "Got it right this time around though." He looked up to see that his audience wasn't making the connection. "… The dean's shard? Big shiny bit of rock? It's an amplifier for more than just lasers."

Finlay pulled her chair a little closer, noticeably bed-headed, and reached for a small lamp to light her cigar off of. "… You're saying that somehow those crystals are intrinsically magical?"

"Not exactly. They're just passive receivers… it just so happens that there is something /very/ magical that I could… hear… with the shard's help. Sort of a way of extending my reach beyond the blocking power of the Net."

"… So… anyone who touches that rock could cast magic?"

"Only for about six and a half minutes. And only once at mid morning and once at night…" He considered it. "… and they'd have to have some natural predisposition for the skill in the first place… but yes, that is the idea."

The scholar sat back in disbelief. "…how?"

Kuja made to answer, and then stopped himself. "… Too hard to explain right now. I still don't know half of it myself… Ask again tomorrow."

"I want a blood sample." Ing's sudden outburst almost made the dean bite through her cigar. 

"What, now? We'd have to wake half of the lab up… Surely it can wait until morning…"

The short doctor chewed his mustache in frustration. "I need to know /how/ this was done! The degeneration of blood cells was damn close to total… a man shouldn't just be able to get out of bed and declare himself fully recovered…"

"I didn't say I was fully recovered." The silver haired man disagreed as he stared mournfully at the crumbs on his plate. "… still hungry…" 

Clay shook his head in awe.  At the rate the delicate man was going they would have to wake one of the cooks. He had already eaten through the Duke's provision of random snacks and was obviously looking to make up for all his skipped meals at once.  The old man blinked, slower to realize the predicament than the others, and stood up to rummage through his temporary desk with a sigh. He came back with a paper wrapped parcel of what looked like honey candy.  

"… All I said was /temporary/ recovery. Thank you!" The last was directed at Riquoi, who placed his offering on the table where the bread had been.  "… The only spells I know are to cure things injured, and revive things about to die… If something is already completely dead, it's gone for good I'm afraid."

"… So this vitality…" Clay couldn't help but interrupt, seeing what the delicate man was implying faster than the rest.

"… isn't a real recovery." Kuja bit carefully into the corner of one of the sticky sweets.

 "… I was able to restore what I have left to top condition, but I'd need you to run a test or two to see exactly how much that is… certainly enough to get around with it seems." He made a fist to show that most of his old tone and strength were back.

Ing blinked, suddenly understanding what was being implied. "… So you start all over again… and in two weeks…"

"I'm right back where I was yesterday… although now that we know magic works, I can probably maintain my current level of health indefinitely."  

Clay snorted, amused. "Convenient. Just recharge once in a while, and away you go?"

Kuja gave him a droll look and nodded in agreement. "That is my current plan, yes."

"What's the catch?"  The dean was never a woman to miss the fine print on a contract.

"Twofold, as best I can tell…" He shrugged and finished his first helping before reaching for the next. "I make sure I'm near the crystal… and I make sure not to exert myself beyond my abilities."

"Sounds simple enough." Finlay claimed one of the candies for herself. Seeing no reason not to, Clay did the same.  He ignored the courtesan's pout. If the small man ate the whole box by himself he'd soon have a new reason to be sick.

The duke poured himself a drink and another for the doctor. "Well, I think its excellent news."  Ing gave him a sour look. "What? Our best-tactician is no longer in immediate danger, and for the first time in over a decade, we have a mage at our disposal… if you are feeling up to the task of course, Mister Kuja."

"I imagine I could oblige." The two men toasted each other, amused by their banter.

// All this talk of mages... We've done alright without magic… Hell, most of the army is too young to even know what it is… much less what to do with it. // The young general dusted his fingers off on his pants, grudgingly conceding that he was one of those men. 

"… So…" He interrupted the celebratory little group before they could get off the topic. "… Aside from mending yourself… what can you /do/ exactly…?"

Blue eyes met his in wicked amusement as the pale beauty dabbed his lips with a napkin. "… General Gerrik seems to be in need of a demonstration."

The soldier flinched, not liking how he was suddenly the center of attention. "What, I've never seen a mage before… and with the exception of your lordship… neither have any of you!"

Finlay made a rude noise. "I have a recollection or two of my own, general."

"Begging your pardon, madam." Clay didn't look away from his quarry, the challenge might be childish, but he wouldn't retract it. The courtesan seemed more than happy to oblige. 

"… I don't mind if the rest of you don't… and really, night time might be the best time for it. No sense in scaring people unnecessarily…"  

He cracked his knuckles with a smirk. "… After building all those little toy guns I'd like to try some /real/ firepower against those shells stacked in storage."

Ing glanced down at his slippers and dressing gown, and promptly stood up. "If that's the case… I think I'd better go get dressed. I want to see this…!" He stopped as everyone gave him a humoring look. "… Strictly as a medical professional… of course."

"Of course…"  Grinning around the remains of her cigar, the woman followed him out of the room to kick some of her students out of bed.

***** 

Ibat grimaced as his aide pulled the wrappings tight on his arm, cursing his luck, the injury, and the world at large. His army was broken completely down the middle. The majority of men and provisions were on the move along the high ground, pushing ahead as fast as they could beneath the constant aggravation of the stingers that occasionally raked across the hills at high speed.  If they would just stay and fight, it would have been simple. Instead they had learned a new trick, pelting the men below with rocks and disappearing out of range before any of the larger weapons could be brought to bear.  The general granted that the tactic was primitive, but it worked quite well. Already his force had to slow down and construct rudimentary protections for vulnerable equipment as they went.  

He watched the column pick its way west, confident that they'd connect up with the main section of Laro's army with no further delays. A far smaller portion of men and supplies were awaiting his order on the outcrop, willing to risk walking into disaster in order to get a better peek at what might be happening behind the enemy's main mass.  The aging general considered the message that had found its way to him. Reading between the lines he could feel his former student's worry, and his premonition.  If Laro was right, they had very likely reached the end of their luck.  The alien queen was sore about the loss of property and maybe, probably, definitely, had dispatched a general of her own.  It was a distressing thought. 

//  That's what we get for being successful… we attract something nasty's attention… //

Ibat had only been on the fringes of the final battle's that marked the Great Kai's defeat and capture.  The younger man had borne the brunt of the Selwe's focused attacks. The patterns however, were unmistakably familiar and he was willing to believe that Laro's hunch was correct.  The stingers and drones, even the diggers, were getting smarter. That just wasn't something they could do on their own.  Someone was doing their thinking for them, someone who was watching them all very very carefully.

// I give it a week… if they start throwing actual technology at us… then it will be set and sealed, although I'd prefer to see it for myself. //

It had been years since he had seen a Selwe general. But even with only a dusty, distant view, he was sure that his memory was good enough to recognize another one if he saw it.  He just hoped he could spot it before it could do the same to him.  

Signaling his officers, he silently ordered the unit to make its way into a dry stream bed. Some quiet hours later he was rewarded by the steady thrum of distant wing-beats in the air above.  The soldiers fit themselves flat against whatever was convenient in the gully, wedging themselves into crevices and shadows, draping vehicles with dusty canvas, blending in as best they could. Ibat watched as the swarm passed overhead, surprised to note that it was far larger than he had guessed. More than just a scout force, it seemed to move with a focus. The formation passed over head, several of it's members breaking off to swoop lower and examine their hideout, but they did not stop for a close look. A few flittering shadows and they were gone.  

Looking up as they past, the general wished he dared risk some binoculars. There was something traveling in the middle of the cloud of stingers, a blob that could have been a balloon or maybe just a large metallic plate. The thought made the old soldier frown. Hover plates this far from the heart of alien territory were very unusual. He had been speculating on an increase in technology now that they had been pushing further into the conquered lands, but they hadn't penetrated /that/ deep yet.  He had hoped that there would be a week or two before Laro's hunch would prove correct. Not it seemed a simple matter of days.

// This is going to get very ugly. Very fast. //

***** 

The walk across the castle was more than enough to burn the excess energy off. Kuja was glad to sit a moment and catch his breath as the sleepy students went about assembling a target for him to aim at.  Closing his eyes, he poked gently at the energy reservoir inside, pleased to see that it was still perfectly intact. It meant that his lack of stamina was simply the result of thinner blood, not anything more malicious. Sitting calmly seemed to do the trick, he gave the doctors an amused snort as he looked up to find them fussing over him.   
  


"I'm perfectly fine! Just don't ask me to run races." 

Anne blushed guiltily at the scolding. "… Sorry, force of habit…"

"I understand." He looked over his shoulder to where the young general was watching everything thing with amusement. If anyone was determined to not be in awe of magic, it was Gerrik. He squashed the childish urge to float the man up to the roof and leave him there, just to see if he could be so calm about things then. "Are we entertaining you, sir?"

"… Usually." The shorthaired officer picked his way over and pulled up a stool to sit on.  "But then I think… that's rather why we're all here after all. To be entertained by something that will shock and amaze? Hell, I'm surprised the King's not out here…"

"I don't think I'm up to a royal inspection quite yet…" The genome laughed lightly. "It would just be embarrassing if I flubbed it, don't you think?"

"You doubt your ability?"

Kuja tilted his head in thought. "Not precisely… but there are always unknowns in any experiment… The Net for example, I /think/ I know how it works, but I'm not /sure/…"

"So, all things being equal, you're fairly confident you won't just flap your arms and have nothing happen…" The general smirked. "Fair enough"

"I never 'flap,' sir. That's just tacky."  

Looking back over at where the Dean and her flock were finishing up, he was still impressed at the massive size of the alien shell.  Moonlight and torches provided plenty of light, but he could imagine how it would be in a less friendly setting. In the dark, with not one, but thousands of the creatures marching about? It would be a blood chilling sight. If magic couldn't dent the hard surface, he would be at a loss as to what to suggest.

// … well at the very least me and that silly heat gun could travel around like a dog and pony show… although god knows I'd get tired of casting ice spells all the time… at least I'm a lot more portable that a massive tank of water… //

He weighed his options in the face of the confined space he had to work with, and his own limited resources. Even if he could produce an Ultima without going into full trance, which he doubted, it would flatten the city if not the entire region. Quickly on the tail of the first thought came the second, would trance be possible for him with his heavily reduced stamina? The genome shook his head to dismiss the doubts. All the anecdotes he had heard had pointed to even basic magics being enough to wreak havoc among the hard-shelled aliens. 

"Anytime you're ready Mr. Kuja…"  The duke returned from his inspection of the training dummy with Finlay and her flock in tow. Settling down on the last of their make-shift bleachers, they had an air of excitement about them. 

"…I hope I don't disappoint…" He stood up and mentally measured the distance between his audience and the target. Telling them to move further back was probably an exercise in futility. 

// and really… if I can just borrow a little more magic in the morning… spending some in the name of defense wouldn't be a bad idea at all. //

Knowing that whoever was on the receiving end didn't see much of anything when the spell was cast, he didn't see fit to warn them before whispering the word 'Wall' to himself. Subtly tagging every member of the chatting party, he could see it settle into place and sighed in relief. His first test was completed with satisfactory results. The Net seemed genuinely unable to stop not just healing spells but ones commonly used in battle as well. There was only one test left. 

Turning back to his target he curled his fingers again, applying the same to himself that he had to his watchers. This time he knew they could see the shimmering effect of the magic and they made the appropriately impressed noises. Faintly he could hear the young general asking, "That's it? What the hell was that supposed to do…"  

Once again the urge to forsake the target was high, but he let the childish impulse go. Pulling even more energy out, he concentrated a minute on what he wanted.  

"… Thundara, if you please."  Cajoling the bolt down out of the heavens like an old friend, he was more than gratified to see the sparkle of distant electrical charge. His quiet whisper brought forth a brilliantly crackling surge. It zinged down to earth with malicious intent, completely enveloping the carapace and its supports with a hissing roar before eventually discharging into the ground.

//… now that's an idea… cast Water first… and see if I can't get entire groups of them at once as the bolt conducts through wet soil…? //

The exoskeleton didn't explode like his last experiment had, making the barrier spells unnecessary. Kuja had to content himself with the very obviously cracked and steaming pile that collapsed in on itself with a nasty smell of charred bone. 

Inspecting the damage he wondered if even half strength would be necessary to bring down an unsuspecting drone.  He might have had a perfectly acceptable amount of damage with a less powerful variation. 

// Plenty of time to test for that later. // 

"… It was exactly as I remembered…" Riquoi was standing at his side, patting his arm grinning like a far younger man as he inspected the wreckage. "Lightening bolts on command as the bugs scattered… perfect, simply marvelous!"

"How do you feel, Masa?"  Ing's presence on his other arm was fully expected. The doctor didn't wait for a reply, moving methodically to check pulse, temperature and other basic vitals before he could complain.

"… A little tired, but I could cast one or two more simple things with out being overly drained."

"One spell a day, do you think?"  The mustached man incorrectly counted. "No wait, two, since you healed yourself earlier…"

Kuja grinned. "Try thirteen so far, although not all spells are created equal as far as strength required." He shrugged, "I think so long as I keep it below twenty-five I'll be perfectly all right." 

"…Thirteen?" 

"I took the minor precaution of protecting you from any physical or magical forces that might have caused harm…"  Grinning at a suddenly sneaky thought, he waved Gerrik over from where the soldier was inspecting the smoking ruins. Picking up a convenient rock from where it lay harmless, he threw it with satisfactory accuracy directly at the man's head. With no time to do more than make a face, the soldier braced for an impact that ended up being feather light. The rock slowed perceptibly in the air. Bouncing off the cringing forehead soundlessly and falling to the ground in slow motion. Rubbing his face in surprise, the general could only shrug when he found no bruises. 

"What the hell was that all about?!"

"Just a minor demonstration." Laughing at the man's irritated look, the silver-haired man explained. "One shield for each of you, including our long suffering students, and one for myself."

Having watched the demonstration, one of Finlay's assistants picked up a board, and promptly turned to hit his classmate with it. Again, despite the strength of the blow, it only made contact with a tap, not even enough force to bruise.  For some reason this amused the foursome greatly, soon each young man had a stick they were attempting to hit someone else with.

"… it is only temporary of course…"  Having counted off the seconds since he had cast the spell, Kuja moved to intervene before someone got hurt. 

"Ow!"

He sighed as they figured it out for themselves. "Handy in battle, or for situations of short duration."  Taking the remaining sticks away, he was glad that the first of the students to lose the spell would suffer nothing worse than bruises.

Gerrik simply shook his head and sighed. "… Well, that was fun. I don't know about the rest of you esteemed lords and ladies, but I'll admit my curiosity about magic has been satisfied. See you in the morning, Mr. Kuja. I'm off to catch up on my sleep." Still rubbing his forehead, the young general retreated into the safety of the castle, muttering about human cannons and parlor tricks as he went.

***** 

***** 

If things are good for Laro… then things are bad for Kuja… if things are bad for Laro… Kuja… throws a party?  

Nevermind. This is what happens when you come back to a story after months away. It goes briefly slapstick…

--Lunar.


	19. Can I Protect You from Yourself?

Feather Flight: Can I Protect You from Yourself? **(part 19)**

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

***** 

The day came and went in a flurry of activity reminiscent of the hours before Nazer-Kai's departure.  Clay snorted at the thought. The parallelism was not unthinkable. Now that Kuja was functionally recovered from his illness, he was even more determined to see the battle lines than his lover had been. Sighing, he glanced over reports that someone had thrust at him only to point the man down the hall to where the Duke sat working. It was nice to see the usually plodding bureaucracy moving at top speed but he couldn't help but wish it had been him and not a particularly demanding courtesan that had been the impetus.

// … If I want to go to the front, I'm told to sit on my hands and wait my turn… Kuja wants to go to the front? Holy hell, stand back because they'll do everything short of moving heaven and earth to get him there… //

He couldn't begrudge the silvery man, /mage/, he corrected himself. If anyone was going to make a sudden and powerful impact on the situation, it would be Laro's sharp-eyed lover. The soldier couldn't help but wonder how the general would take the news. As far as he knew, their arrival would be a complete surprise to the man. All the distant officer had been told was that he was getting a standard mail shipment or the like. It promised to be a drama right out of one of the plays; a lover secretly joining with a soldier who had gone off to war. 

 Clay shook his head in wonder as he ducked through the map room and out onto the causeway beyond. To think, less than a month ago he had stood here as the old duke had all but threatened to destroy his career.  Less than a week ago, he still hadn't had a prayer in hell of seeing the front again any time soon.  Kuja at least was as good as his word in that sense.  The silvery beauty might be sweeping towards the battle zone on little more than ego and mystical whimsy, but he wasn't stupid enough to go without proper escort. 

// At the very least it lets him swan around and talk politics while leaving /me/ to figure out who to bring, and how to transport them… general indeed… porter more like it… //

For all his grousing, he couldn't help but take his task seriously. The courtesan seemed to think that /he/ had what it took to be a good commander. In all likelihood, Kuja was the /only/ one who believed it.  He hated to admit it, but he owed the man for that.  If the sickly mage wanted 'General Gerrick' to lead his expedition, that was what the man would get.  As for him, he got to return to the fight. That was what mattered, wasn't it?

// No… this has absolutely nothing to do with wanting to see those bugs on the receiving end of some serious magical smiting… nothing at all… //

Two dainty figures stood watching the view from the airy path, peering from the convenient walkway down into the courtyard beyond.  It was a common enough loitering place. From a distance he might have even mistaken Kuja and his doctor as a lady and her maid, but Anne was far too practically dressed, and the courtesan, as beautiful as he was, was certainly not a woman.

Sensing his arrival, the pale man turned and raised a hand in greeting. "General Gerrick, how go your preparations?"

"Surprisingly quick. How are you feeling?"  The silver haired man made an eloquent face. 

"Stop that, I get it from everyone else…"

"It is rather the question of the hour." The officer murmured.  Glancing over at the prim young medic, he noted that she seemed to have been receiving fashion advice from the courtesan. Anne had traded her 'uniform' for a rather charming summer dress.  Her change of costume hadn't affected her true purpose however and he was relieved to see her discrete nod. All was well for the moment.

***** 

It was easier to move as the sun sank below the horizon. The cooler temperatures were as much a benefit to the humans as they were a hindrance to the insects. On more than one occasion Ibat had abused the weakness of his enemies, using the hours between dusk and dawn to outmaneuver the more placid minded aliens.  He really was getting to old to be out creeping around in the grit at all hours, he decided as he did just that. Crawling slowly to the edge of a deep crevasse, he peered down to see what it was that had spooked his scouts so badly. The bottom of the ravine was flooded with light. Sickly pink, it illuminated the fact that its creators were still very much awake and alert.

"There sir, by the far wall… behind the… whatever it is…" His aide pointed gingerly, careful to not disturb any gravel.  Beneath, their quarry shuffled about their business unawares. On the far side of the opening, was an unmistakable piece of 'technology'.

The general frowned at the sight of the carefully plated metal deck. At the first he couldn't puzzle out what it was, the mammoth disk looked almost like a stage, but then one of the drones shifted, revealing the massive coils that the platform rested on. Ibat hissed in understanding. "Hover plate."

"What?" Suitably awed at his superior's omniscience, the younger man couldn't help himself.

"It's a hover plate. Transport technology." The grizzled officer looked away from the unusual machine only to be captivated by a small crowd of aliens behind it. One of the bugs was noticeably taller than the others. "… Well hello… what do we have here? V.I.P. transport, with a V.I.P…?"

"It doesn't look like any of the others."

The general nodded at the obvious statement, silently watching the new development. Giant, nearly a full head taller than the surrounding flock of stingers and drones, the new alien tilted its heart-shaped head, seeming to listen to the chirps and clicks of its audience.

Even more alarming was the way that the others paused when it seemed to reply. It wasn't quite a language, he decided. The sounds alone didn't seem to add up to enough to say much of anything, but never the less, drones continued to come and go as if dispatched to duties around the camp. 

Ibat studied his enemies for as long as he dared, wishing he had the equipment and the time to record an image to send back home.  It didn't look like the Selwe would be stirring from the light and warmth of their little camp until dawn. Deciding he had seen enough, he backed his way down the trail. 

// No matter how fast we move, there's no way to get in contact with the main battle group and get back here… and they're the ones with all the /big/ explosives… nothing I have is big enough to stop a Mentor from this range… //

It really was a pity. This would likely be the clearest shot he would ever get at the alien general. He cursed softly, wanting more than he had wanted anything in a long while to remove the threat before it found his friends.  Wishing alone wouldn't give him firebomb the size of a small truck however, and really, that was what it would take. 

// We'll send word tonight… track them tomorrow… hopefully there will be another chance… // 

***** 

The crystal shard was positioned tidly in front of a large window, curtains drawn to let in the moonlight.  If it had been a ball or some more obvious sort of occult prop, he would have laughed at the pretty scene it made. Flickering light seemed to drift across the surface of the opaque stone, not unalike ripples in a pond. Ripples in reverse, he decided as the twinkling little waves contracted towards where the diminutive mage's hand rested idly on the surface. Kuja hardly seemed to notice, continuing to argue with the various college representatives without pause as the lightshow proceeded beneath his fingertips. Eventually even the Dean conceded to the new timetable, surrendering to his demands with a huff. 

Clay watched her go, impressed in spite of himself.  The mage wasn't giving an inch when it came to his plans. Even the promise of new developments from the college wouldn't delay him from his intended departure. 

// Ambition maybe… doesn't want her stealing his spotlight… //

"… We should have you give the king lessons in assertiveness."  Riquoi unfolded himself from his chair with a small smile. "… I haven't had this much fun watching a young person politicking in ages. Compared to you our poor monarch is still in diapers when it comes to putting his foot down."

"I was too harsh perhaps." The expressive face shifted from imperious to candid with a sigh. Sensing when his shard had ceased his usefulness, the courtesan finally removed his hand, shaking his fingers in a way that had become something of a habit for him. "… I just… there isn't /time/, sir. I can't impress it on all of you enough…"

"We'll get you there, little one. Just be patient."

"… a few months… maybe longer if I don't strain myself…" Clenching long fingers into a fist, Kuja studied it dispassionately. "… That's all I can probably spare… it has to be /finished/ by then. It /can/ be finished by then… but for that to be possible, I can't waste time…"

The old duke looked justifiably worried. None of them were quite comfortable yet with the pale man's illness, much less his miraculous recovery, or the news that it wasn't a flawless one.  Debate was still fierce as to whether it was worth the risk to the mage's health to have him assist efforts in the war.

// Indefinitely… he could last indefinitely, provided he's able to 'recharge' on a regular schedule… but then of course, no one quite knows what will happen if he overstretches himself… //  Leaning against the fireplace, the officer rather liked the way he seemed to just blend into the background of the elegant apartment. It was so much easier to think when people tended to forget you were there.

"You should rest, Kuja. It will be a long journey tomorrow."

"At least this time it will be with the aid of wheels. I'm never riding animals again…" His aggrieved tone caused the older courtier to chuckle.

"This is true. Anne will able to attend to anything you should need, as well as monitor your progress."

"And such a charming spy she is…"  The silver haired man rolled his eyes. "I promise, I will take no unnecessary risks."

The nobleman frowned again. "It's the necessary ones we're worried about."

"I assure you, my health is of great personal importance."  Escorting the soberly dressed duke to the door, Kuja dismissed him in that genteel way that was both unmistakably a dismissal and yet still gracious.  It was almost enough to make the general laugh.

"You're still here I see…"  

"Oh yes."  Meeting the droll tone with one of his own, Clay raised his glass in silent toast to his unlikely ally. "… You are terrifying when you set your mind to things, has anyone ever told you that?"

"I believe Riquoi just did." The mage smirked slightly as he draped a cover over his crystal. "… Surprised I still have the knack for it. It's been ages since I had to throw my weight around."

"Given how little you are, that's saying something."  He couldn't resist the tease, entertained by the look of exasperation on the smaller man's face. "… Might I ask you a personal question?"

"You might," the reply was guardedly curious. "And what may I satisfy you on this evening sir, that cannot wait until morning?"

"You. This." Clay made a vague gesture with his glass, taking in their plans, the random trunks full of supplies, the door through which the duke had departed. "… You put a bold face on it, but I can't help but get the distinct impression that you're thinking you won't be coming back."

Blue eyes watched him from beneath the decorative sweep of silver hair. "Do you now."

"Yes." The officer raised an eyebrow, daring the courtesan to deny it.

"Well well, how astute of you. I wonder how many others have figured it out." 

He blinked, not expecting such a candid reply. "Everybody, probably, at some point or another… they're just too nice to say it."

"Ah, and of course you're not." The polite smile turned into a real grin, giving the pale man a wickedly playful look. "How kind of you."

"Whatever… I'm just curious." He found the mage's stare to be a little disconcerting, but asked anyway, "What happened to 'not fighting fate…'?" 

"Excuse me?" Amused, Kuja turned away from his random fussing to look at him.

"You were willing to play dead a few days ago, now you're all…" He made an eloquent gesture. 

"There's a difference between fighting when there is no hope, and passing up a perfectly obvious opportunity." The courtesan smirked.

"So if that crystal shard hadn't shown up so conveniently…"

"I'd probably be dead by now."

"You take it rather calmly."

"Is there any other way a rational person could possibly take things?" The mage shrugged. "How can I help things that are beyond my control?"

"Doesn't it annoy you?!"

"Excessively," His expression was disgusted. "But what's done is done… I don't fight fate, general. That hasn't changed. If the crystal hadn't come, then it wouldn't have been meant to come."

Seeing the soldier's disbelief, Kuja simply shrugged. "I used to believe freewill could conqueror all… maybe I've just gotten more pragmatic with age."

"So now it's your fate to do something tragically heroic for the sake of your lover?"  Clay matched the cool detachment, mocking it deliberately. "How convenient."

"I don't question your motives, general. And I really don't see why you should care about mine."

Grinding his teeth, the officer had to silently agree. It really didn't have anything to do with him whether the little idiot had a death wish or not. But when he thought about it again, he realized it did. "… Put it this way, I'm not too keen on being responsible for someone who I know is going to take the first opportunity presented to him to die a 'glorious' death. I don't need that sort of thing on my record, I've got enough already, thanks."

Kuja looked at him in surprise, as if seeing things from his side for the first time. "Is that what you think I'll do? Throw myself in front of a spear? Hardly likely, now is it…"

"Honestly I don't know anymore," he muttered, embarrassed by the matter-of-fact tone. "… Tell me, what /are/ your plans."

"Survival."  Lips pursed in a thin line, the cool beauty turned back towards the window. "That too has never changed, I suppose… I've always fought to survive, that basic animal instinct… to do what ever it takes to keep breathing… just one more day."  

Slim hands pressed against the windowpanes as if trying to catch the moon. "… But I suppose, it's not quite enough anymore… Win or lose, I'm still done. Sooner rather than later, I expect. So maybe this time, I fight for something else…"

"… for love, perhaps."  He had meant the words to be mocking, but somehow they came out thoughtful instead.

"Perhaps," Kuja didn't turn to look at him again. "… I can promise you that I won't throw my life away cheaply. If it makes you feel better. It is… something very dear to me after all. But I will end this. For /his/ sake, if for no other reason." 

Clay felt cold, wondering if such absolute devotion could be believed.  // Not ambition after all… dedication…? Duty…? He really believes what he's saying… //  

"… Why…?"  He couldn't help but whisper. "What the hell did Laro promise you, /give/ to you, that could make you love him so much..."

"… I've answered your first question, sir. Take it or leave it. The second… is none of your damn business." Wistful mood broken the small courtesan turned with sudden energy, all but throwing him out with the force of his annoyed glare.  "We leave on the morrow."

"Good night, Kuja." Last part spoken to the door as it was closed hastily against him, the general ran a hand through his hair.  It wasn't until he was almost back at his room that he could shake his nervous mood. 

"Damned martyrs, the pair of them." 

***** 

Antenna tickled his face in the darkness, the feathering touch invasive despite its gentleness, causing twinges of pain from the long gash down his cheek. Blood stung his eye from earlier when the weak scabbing had broken open. They hadn't even noticed when they had dropped him, or maybe they had, and were just fascinated with his 'self sealing' and soft exterior.  He feigned unconsciousness, better than then being forced to touch the weird crystal again. The sensation of /something/ crawling around in his head was enough to make him want to retch.  

Laro wanted to curl into a ball, he wanted to wipe the blood from his face. More than anything he wanted to be left alone in his cell for a few short hours to try and gather his thoughts from their scattered resting places.  Every time he was interrogated he felt a little more of his humanity get scraped off, replaced with thoughts and impulses not his own. Something was poking him, prodding him, inadvertently cutting into his arm. Nothing but sharp edges and hard armor, they didn't notice such incidental injuries to their captive. 

Eventually the impersonal mauling stopped, seeing to whatever it was they had wanted, the spindly creature retreated back through the door, sealing it tightly with it's glue-like spit. The itching of his eye, of the wound on his face, was maddening but the bonds on his hands remained fast.  He couldn't remember the last time he used his fingers, lost amidst a mass of hardened 'goo' his hands might as well have been encased in a block of stone behind his back. They had a tendency to go numb after the first week. He wondered if it was a bad sign. Dragging himself into the relative safety of a corner, the soldier closed his eyes and tried to think about something beyond the hexagonal walls of his tiny prison.  The scraping, clicking sounds of his tormentors all around him, echoing down the halls and through the floors made it hard.

"Nazer-kai… the scouts say it's urgent!"

The general's eyes flew open, reality trickling back slower than he liked. Sitting up he rubbed his wrists gingerly, subconsciously reminding himself of where and when he was. "… What is it?"

His aide knew better than to try and shake him awake. The veteran sat on his heels instead, waiting at the end of the bed for his superior to gather his wits about him.  Looking at the dark circles under the officer's eyes, Laro couldn't help but mourn for better wake-up calls.

// Better dreams too… hard to be lost in nightmares when curled around dreams-come-true… //

Somewhere near by was his box filled with carefully packed notes.  Lately he couldn't help but notice that Kuja's tone had become more sympathetic, or at least more worried sounding. He wasn't sure what had brought about the change, but somehow he got the sense after reading them that his lover was trying to cheer him up. It was a little strange, but very much appreciated. 

// Still not the same as actually /talking/ to him though… // Scrubbing his face with his hands, he dragged himself out of bed. It was still night, he realized. He'd barely slept an hour.  Following his officer, he tried to tug the worst of the wrinkles out of his shirt as he followed his secretary out and over to where the scouts were being debriefed.

// Basket cases… we're all going to be basket cases by the time the war is over if we don't get a rest soon… //

The Selwe weren't attacking at night, not yet anyway.  Grimly he looked out over the moonlit battlefields visible from their rocky hill, wondering if that too would start to change.  A black line just over the next crest of jagged hills marked their impossible goal. Between them and the Tower was the bulk of an insect army. He had little hope it was the only one.  Even if they did, by some miracle, demolish their enemy and claim the Tower, what would it accomplish?

// There's always another army. //

Pushing the depressing thought aside, he crouched next to the battered looking men and accepted the packet they passed to him. "From Ibat-Kai, sir… urgent…" The leader panted.

"Thank you." 

Moving back into the lamp light, he fumbled through the envelope and read through the hastily scrawled note on top. Rescanning it to be sure his tired eyes weren't playing tricks, he passed the whole stack off to one of his senior officers.  He didn't particularly want to read any more, not right away.  Laro's stomach twisted in a way that promised he'd get sick if he didn't try very hard not to for a few minutes. 

"… captain?"

"Yes sir!"

"… Double the watch on the perimeter." He rubbed the back of his neck to try and distract himself. "… Move one of the cannons around to the western slope."

"… yes sir."

"… I'm going for a walk."

***** 

Sitting securely in a padded seat as the vehicle bounced along the rutted highway was a big improvement over his /last/ journey, but that didn't make the constant rattling anymore tolerable. Slouching lower in the back seat, Kuja gave up any pretense of caring about his surroundings. Instead he settled for resting his head against Anne's shoulder and closing his eyes.  The woman was decent padding and fussed over him with satisfying thoroughness. It was taking advantage, he supposed, but there was something rather nice about her constant nagging to eat, rest, put on a jacket.  Maybe it would feel stifling in time, but for now he was content to be babied. 

// … as soon as this war is over… I'm going to have to tell these people about decent transportation… How hard could it be to invent some way of getting here-to-there without making everyone involved motion sick? //

He could hear Gerrick's grumble of amusement and knew he had been caught by the man in the front seat. Not bothering to look, he just smirked, knowing how much the officer would have dearly liked to complain.  He had a hunch the cynic was starting to warm to his medical escort, and wasn't above making life more difficult for him whenever he could help it. Love stories always needed a few challenges to help them along. 

// Besides what is gained easily isn't appreciated half so much, so why not make him work a bit… especially if it will save her a broken heart. //

He wasn't above admitting he was a romantic, to himself, when no one was looking. Kuja smiled at the thought. Laro had certainly seen through his intended aloofness. He still wasn't entirely sure what he would do about that.  With the chaos during the days before the warlord's departure, and his own uncooperative health, things had not exactly gone as planned.  

// Two days, and then… what? No excuses on my side… and I /do/ want to see him again… //

The others would follow his lead, it would be his decision, what to reveal, what to keep to himself. He was sure of that much.  His first impulse was to say nothing at all. Going to the front changed nothing, Laro still had more than enough to worry about without any additional burdens.  It might take some work to keep his medic close, but there had to be some way to disguise her, and the crystal's real purpose.

// If there's no other choice… only then… until that. Let him have the good news, it sounds as though he could sorely use some. //  

He closed his eyes, promising himself that he would rest just a minute, but fell asleep just the same. Strangely, when he dreamed, he dreamed of a sad-eyed mouse-man he had met once during his travels in Gaia. 

Drinking and listening to the minstrel while he waited for the rain to pass. They had spent a night in Trueno long before his war was ready to begin. The wanderer, calling himself 'Fratley', confessed that he had lost all memories of himself during his adventurers. He had wandered the continent for years working where he could, when he could, and had come to Trueno as a guard for one of King's auction shipments. They had talked for a time about what the soldier could remember of his past, and he had wondered aloud that he must have loved once, because he remembered the pain of loosing it, but not the girl whom he had shared it with. Something in that haunted look stayed with the genome long after they had parted company, Fratley off to the city to ride another airship, himself off to the auction house to procure… something… he couldn't remember anymore.

"Kuja… wake up… it's time to set up camp and maybe you should, you know, hold the shard a while… you look tired."

Blinking, he came awake to find he had his head in Anne's lap, the sky all sunset colors overhead.  

// … Freya… Zidane's friend… the woman looking for a lover who had abandoned her years before… that was her name… I wonder if she ever found him… and if he remembered her… //

He sat up with a sigh, watching the others move about with their chores. // It would be nice… if they did… //

"Anne…?"

"Yes?" The young doctor looked up from digging through her bag to give him a worried look. He couldn't blame her, if he sounded half as dazed as he felt, she ought to be worried.

"… Do you believe that love is forever?"

Blushing prettily the woman looked down again, industriously tidying her things and handing the packs off to one of the young men under Gerrick's command. "I'd like to think so… but… I suppose it's different for everyone."

"I suppose it is." Kuja allowed himself to be pulled from the truck with a minimum of grumbling, more than ready to curl up and sleep again despite his long nap. "Silly question I suppose…"

***** 

***** 

rollin' rollin' rollin'

--Lunar


	20. All Life is a Battle

Feather Flight: All Life is a Battle **(part 20)**

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

*************************  

"We're getting close now…" Kuja looked forward at the driver's terse comment, not understanding the context. The shaggy haired blond, whose name had yet to sink in, was gesturing at the other vehicle, some cryptic code of hand waving. Their resident general seemed to understand the message well enough, fishing in his pack abruptly for a pair of binoculars that he trained first on the road ahead, and then on the sky around them.

"What, what's going on…?"  Hating to be out of the loop, the genome reached forward to poke the man sharply. "What the hell are they going on about."

"Remember that post we past this morning?"

"Yeah."

"It's moved every week, every day sometimes. We use them to mark the quarter-mile buffer."

"Buffer to what?"

"Where the road goes hostile."

Blinking, he looked over his shoulder and then back to the unremarkable canyon country ahead of them as they exited the mountains. It didn't look any different then it had an hour ago, or where they had camped for the past several days. "So there are Selwe /here/? Behind the army?"

"Stingers have an effective range of about sixty miles, Mr. Kuja. We're about that far from the front.  Now, there may not be anything exciting between here and the rear guard, but we can't guarantee it so we mark the roads to remind people… Scouts run them about once a day to make sure that there's nothing camping out…"

"Lovely." Kuja snorted. "So what happens if we do run into something nasty…?"

Gerrick looked back at him in annoyance. "My men make use of the extra hardware we're carrying and hope for a miracle, or another demonstration of what the hell you think you're going to be doing here."

The pale courtier smirked. "Of course, general. I /live/ to serve."

"… I'll believe that when I see it…" His mutter was almost lost in the sound of the vehicle. The genome let the grumble pass un-remarked on. He cold forgive the soldier a little stress with the end of their little solo-adventure almost done. The last thing he could want was a disaster to fall now, practically in sight of the main army.   Looking over at his companion in the back seat, he noted that the young doctor was dozing off. This time it was Anne who was sleepy, not him. She probably had less experience with the wear and tear of travel then he did, and no magic to bolster her energies.  They would be in camp by dark. He didn't see why she couldn't snooze the rest of the morning away. Someone would wake her for lunch.

Watching the cliffs as he was, he caught the signal at the same time as his driver did, the truck ahead of theirs slamming on the breaks as the escorting troopers scrambled to respond to the threat. Kuja gripped the side of car and his dozing assistant carefully as the vehicle skidded to a halt. 

Content to sit still as the army men scrambled around him, he listened for the thrumming he had been told about, picking it out of the air easily now that the engines had stopped. It almost reminded him of the sound of turbines instead of the swarm it was.  Coming across the ridge, the iridescent flash of wings was almost pretty, certainly nothing like he'd ever encountered before. He watched the first of the snipers take a shot and have it deflect off the naturally iron-hard armor, knowing their spindly appearance was deceptive. 

"Um… Kuja… aren't you going to… help? Maybe?" Crouched down into her seat, the pretty medic gave him an exasperated look.

"… In a minute… I've never seen them before, would be a shame to waste the opportunity."  One of the insects tried to dive-bomb a gunner, causing the man to scramble out of the way. 

Annoyed, the mage pulled a little power and shielded the trucks from a repeat attack.  The second dive-bomber bounced off the invisible obstacle with startled chirp before the soldiers took advantage of its hesitation to shoot it down. He couldn't help but appreciate the deadly efficiency with which they moved. They were men who knew their business. 

 As interesting as it was to watch the aliens hovering in the air, they were in the way of his reaching Laro before sunset. After a week on the road, he found his patience wearing short.  He cleared his throat politely. "… right. That was fun. I'd like to try something now if you gentlemen wouldn't mind?"

Wiping dust from his face, Gerrick just gave him an evil look. "By all means…"

"Perhaps a bit of a reprieve from the heat…" Kuja waited until the majority of the flitting aliens were in a tight group, and targeted as many as he could in the ice-spell building in his fingertips.  The shift in temperature could be felt even on the ground, a cool breeze from nowhere carrying tiny flakes of snow as it raced through the canyon. 

The tiny flurries dissolved in the hot air. The same couldn't be said for the larger chunks.  Several of the Stingers were completely enveloped in the rapid forming crystals, falling to earth and shattering in cold explosions. The ones not directly hit were still caught by the freezing temperatures, wings and thinner limbs suddenly brittle and snapping, robbing them of purpose.  Gerrick and his shoulders moved out of the way as the aliens dropped to earth, moving among the cold-shocked creatures to finish the last of the brutal cleanup work.  The genome watched a moment in dispassionate curiosity before returning to the relative civility of the truck.  

"How do you feel?"

"Fine, Anne… just fine. You?"

The doctor smoothed her hair and reached for her bag of supplies. "Still… wouldn't hurt to check…"

"If it makes you happy," he agreed blandly. 

"Let's get the hell out of here," grumbled the general as he pulled himself into the truck after the driver. "Before whoever they were reporting back to notices they're not here anymore."

"Swarms tend to work on the principle of a hive mind, general." The mage replied as he allowed an arm to be cuffed and prodded at. "…'They' probably already know."

"Well you're just a fountain of good news then, aren't you." Waving the other vehicle ahead, he sat back in his seat with a frown, eyes still watching the sky.

*************************

His driver's happy whoop pulled his attention away from his map and towards the horizon. The truck's wild bump and jitter was disorienting, but years of experience had him squinting through the dust following the course of hillside to a destination suddenly in sight. Along the top of the bluff the gray bulk of Laro's army stood entrenched, satisfyingly large and un mauled.  Stretching across the narrow valley, making the slow climb up the exposed slope was the bulk of his own veteran force. Despite the fast march they'd be in high spirits by nightfall, reunions were rare things after all.  Scratching his chin, the old general couldn't remember the last time he had actually laid eyes on his protégé.

// … I wasn't there when they pulled him off the field… should have been… should have been there for the boy… from the stories, he was about two days away from becoming just so much dog meat when they found him… //  

A lifetime it seemed, he has been at war, from the very beginning almost. It was uncanny how that one year could stand out as worse then the others.  Maybe it was because they had been closer to victory then ever before, the fall had just felt all the farther because of it.  They'd get it back some how. Laro had come back, and together they'd whittle their persistent foe back down to size. 

"It seems that Nazer-kai's army is under attack sir…"  Handing binoculars back, over his shoulder, his aide pointed to the skies on the far side of the bluff.  

Ibat fumbled the optics a moment, distracted as his truck tore past the rear-most teams of his army. He spared a wave for the unit commander before getting the gear pointed right-way-round and looked through them. A blurry cloud of black specks hovered and swept the air above the army, occasionally stirred into even more erratic patterns by mortar fire and sweeps of laser light.  He hissed at the sight of the Stingers, fiddling with the focus until he could magnify the view.  Projectiles were flying both ways. Trying to track the flying beast's movements was dizzying but even at distance he didn't make the mistake of thinking that all was well with his old student's army. 

"… the bastards are dropping rocks?"  Annoyed, he moved to pass the binoculars forward again in time to see the flash of distant explosion. "… shit… not rocks? Where'd they get…" It wasn't worth asking. His men knew as much as he did at this point, and the air, if it had secrets, wasn't likely to share them.

Another fan of light erupted from two monstrous looking cannons, clearing a swath of air and giving Laro's army some breathing room.  It had to be like trying to swat gnats.  He sympathized with the gunners.  "… how much fuel do we have?"

"Half a tank, sir…?"  The officer behind the wheel spared him a curious glance. "We should be in camp within the hour, depending on the road."

"Use the reserve tank and step on the gas, son. I want to be there /now/."  He leaned back and folded his arms across his chest to a startled chorus of 'yes sir's.'  So close to where he wanted to be, it was irritating to watch a battle and know damn well that by the time he got there, it'd be over.   

His officers seemed to grab the gist of his mood, talking as quietly as they could over the roar of the engine. At top speed even the small bumps in the road threatened to send them all flying. He braced his feet against the floor in defense, eyes studying the land, the sky, and the swarming insects.  It wasn't impossible that they'd notice his arrival and divert some energy to attacking his convoy. Silently he dared them to try.

With a lurching heave, the sturdy jeep pulled itself up the initial slope. Tires skidded and slipped against the bare rock before catching hold and throwing them forward. Ibat nearly had to catch his aide by the head to keep himself from being propelled into the windshield.  The younger man got an unintentional fist to the back of his skull instead, brushing off his grunted apology with a weak smile even as he rubbed what would likely be a welt later.  

They were all too busy watching the sky to pay much attention to the flurry of activity around them. The general hoped his driver was sane enough to keep his eyes on the road, engrossed in watching massive cannons, all the more impressive close up, he wasn't sure he'd notice if they hit someone until after the poor soldier was under the tires.  Resting on massive treads, the pair of armored guns were positioned on either side of the bluff's highest point. Men moved around and over the smooth bulk at a frantic pace as the top half pivoted smoothly to sweep the sky again.  They were monstrous machines.  He couldn't wait to see what they were capable of. 

"… Looks like that lazy idiot boy of mine has been hoarding all the good toys… doesn't it…" He laughed as their road brought them close to the base of one of the guns. His officers looked up in awe as the long barrel swung overhead.  

// I had heard that crazy old woman was up to something back at home… but these… no wonder Laro's content to sit tight and be harassed… the Stingers can't be more than a minor annoyance so long as these big fellows run smoothly… // 

They drove past a third massive shape, well wrapped under tarps. It hinted that there was a backup in the wings should something go wrong. The old soldier grinned at the sight.  Dean Finlay always had been a thorough woman.  The truck's progress necessarily slowed as they got closer to the center of camp, the crowds of troops, even orderly as they were, were /everywhere/ shifting position as fresh men replaced those coming off the hillside ahead.  He reached over the side of the vehicle to tap a dusty looking officer.

"Where's the Kai?"

"Sir?" Blinking in surprise, the young captain did a double take at the sight of his insignia. "Sir! Welcome to camp sir…"

"Yes yes, where's Nazer-kai…?"

"There's been an attack at grid 14, sir. Drones. He's assisting the troops."

"Personally?!"

"Yes sir. That's what I've heard."

The general patted the man on the shoulder and signaled them to drive on to the command area.  He couldn't help but huff in irritation. 

// Damned man never learns to stand back and /watch/ what the hell is going on… always has to be in the middle… //

It had been what had caused his fall the last time after all. Older, and hopefully wiser, Ibat chewed his lip as they pulled to a halt in front of some of the larger structures.  Petty officer spilled out of one of the tents, ready to run and fetch at a moment's notice.  He let the commander at his side snap out all the basic orders, waiting for a lull before he began the 'grand procession' to the look out point.  The view was admirable, giving him easily several hundred miles of panorama, most of it taken up with armies of some form or another.  Men and machines made up most of the rocky hillsides, a thick blanket of proactive mayhem defending the camp on the ground, while the new cannons swept the air.  Crawling up the base of the bluffs the polished black carapaces of the Drones were easy to pick out against the bleached sandstone. A large knot of them were being held off to the north, more men moving in that direction to assist their friends in maintaining the hills.

He tapped one of the field officers, a man whose arm was splinted and generously wrapped, to get his attention. "… The Kai?"

"… Huh? Oh!" The soldier sketched a salute with his good hand before offering his spy-glass. Ibat waved it away, nodding at the fight below to remind the man of his question.  "He's on the ridge sir… a bit hard to see… there… a bit behind the first of the bugs…"

Squinting, the grizzled general could make out a slightly taller-than-average fighter wielding an oversized spear with familiar precision.  The sight made him smile. "He seems to be doing alright then. How long?"

"They started their accent about an hour ago… they should give up soon… they don't have much daylight left."

"The bugs actually fall back before sundown?" He turned, curious to hear the latest behavioral 'changes.'  If what he had seen during his journey was any hint, Laro's team had to be dealing with a significantly evolved enemy from normal.  The men seemed to be taking it in stride.

The wounded captain nodded seriously, "They've started pulling back close to five miles… just far enough that night-work has become a challenge…"

"… clever little things…"

"Damn creepy if you ask me… that and the technology…"

"We saw bombs… what's that all about…" He pointed down at a small explosion below as an example.

"They're like grenades as far as we can tell… we're still waiting for someone to pick up a dud so we can study it… It hasn't been a priority." Scratching his chin, the officer grimaced. "… It's more than that though… the scouts have started seeing energy weapons out on the plains… and other things too… larger Drones and meaner looking ones."

Ibat raised an eyebrow. "Any sign of a large hover-plate in the area?"

"No sir." Alarmed the younger man gave him a worried look.  

Shrugging, the general made light of his question.  His attention was pulled away from the conversation entirely by a sudden shout at his elbow. Another observer, scanning the horizon grabbed blindly for his radio, almost fumbling it as he began shouting coordinates.  Several yards away, a more conventional piece of artillery swung about to obey, aiming further down the hillside. Something was pushing against the general tide of retreat, wading amongst the trundling drones with the thin-legged elegance of a heron among the ducks.  

At first Ibat couldn't believe that something that big could have escape the perimeter observers. Then he almost rubbed his eyes in disbelief as the spindly monster all but disappeared before his eyes. The dark shape wavered crazily in the heated air rising off the desert like a mirage.  The very scrawniness of it was its secret.  Spidery, it picked its way over the slower moving troops.  

Alerted by the crackle of radios across the hillside, Laro's team was making frenetic work of the last of the Drones while others shifted position to try and deal with the new adversary.  The older general watched with alarm, knowing that taking down an opponent 26 feet tall on eight legs was not a trivial matter.  He hadn't seen one in years, but he remembered how fast the specialized aliens could move when it suited them.  What they couldn't walk over they could pull down, or puncture with their sharp feet.

// Is there really only one of them… where are the others… //  

He signaled the observer to recheck the area, knowing the man was probably already in the process of doing just that. Old habits were coming back as old enemies reemerged. Somebody had gotten several mortars into position, aiming without success for the modest bulk of the insect's body where it hung in the air.  The other soldiers had to contend themselves with going for the heavily armored shafts of the monster's legs. Maybe someone lucky would get a joint, but otherwise they were simply there to run interference while the artillery reloaded.   

Sunset began with an artistic splash of orange across the desert, highlighting the hilltops and making them look like waves in an ocean.  It was very pretty, and completely the worst thing as far as visibility went.  Appearing wraith-like from the shimmering light, another two spindly horrors emerged to follow the first.  The officer with the radio grimly rattled off the new information.  

Watching the newcomers, he almost missed the first spider's sudden demise.  Glancing over, he thought for a strange moment that it had spawned another leg before recognizing the spear for what it was.  Spitted through the center, the creature fell to earth in a tangle, causing men to scramble out of the way.  Only one man had the physical strength, not to mention insanity, to try a stunt like that. He wished the younger general luck in freeing his weapon from the corpse fast enough to take care of the next two. 

In the waning light it was impossible to say which of the scrambling bodies was Laro's. He just had to hope the man wouldn't do anything too stupid.  "… Tell the teams on the south side here to start pulling back, and get the artillery to pick off the one at the back. They should have a clear shot."

// Laro won't mind a bit of audience participation… or if he does, he shouldn't go diving into things and leaving me to my own devices… //  

He stuck his hands in his pockets, stretching to alleviate the stiffness of a day being jostled in a truck. Orders were relayed with commendable efficiency. He had the pleasure of hearing the business-like scream of seven-inch shells ripping through the air over the heads of the retreating army. One or two of the slugs seemed to find their target, moving as it was, a third round shattered one of the spindly legs near the top.  The severed portion dropped to earth like a felled tree, spraying goo as it went down. Assaults, he randomly recalled, were definitely messy kills.

The remaining insect's escape route was cut off by the arrival of reinforcements. Ibat turned away from the cleanup, well satisfied with his part in things.  Waving for his aides, he stomped back to the command tent to review Laro's maps.  The 'man of the hour' would be back soon, likely covered in random slime and ready to collapse. He didn't want to waste the younger general's time answering questions that he could just research on his own. They could work out the official sharing of command in the morning.

************************* 

Kuja had no idea how the others knew where they were going.  The glare of the vehicle's headlamps did much to illuminate the rocky soil and occasional sickly stalks of grass, but gave little clue that he could see to tell them where they were. For all he knew they were going in circles.  Luckily the drivers seemed confident that they were following the 'road.'  

They had lost time on the rough terrain. Dinner had been a hurried event, the officers deciding to push on rather than risk camping on their own so close to the battle lines.  The genome was inclined to agree with them, not willing to test his full strength under fire just yet. Too awake from his earlier naps to sleep through the last stage of the trip, he tried not to begrudge his return to the role of 'pillow' for the sleeping doctor. Reaching behind the seat to where their precious cargo was stored, he burrowed his fingers past the protective cloth to where the crystal shard lay singing in its cocoon.  

// Ten pm then, or there about… so if we're not stopping for the night, we must be close… //  

"You awake back there?"   

He glanced forward again at the question. "Of course, but our good doctor is down for the count."

"Let her sleep. The camp's just ahead. You can see the sentries there by the outcrop."

"Why don't they use fire or something? How can they just stand there in the dark?" Kuja grumbled, annoyed at how the bright headlights effectively blinded him to anything tucked further in the darkness. Gerrick must have known what he was looking for to make out anything in the shadows of the bluffs ahead. 

// Actually… there are lights… higher up on the hill… //  He raised a hand to block out some of the glare, able to see finally the prickly irregularities along the hilltops that had to be thousands of tents and campfires.  His eyes widened as he took on the scale of the temporary military city.

"Light can attract the bugs, so can heat… the sentries don't need either."  The sour general explained tersely, eyes on the road ahead. "We'd much rather see the bugs before they see us, after all…"

"Fair enough." Shrugging, the genome let the sarcasm slide. He wasn't interested in picking fights. Mentally he willed their truck to go faster.  So close to his goal, he found he couldn't feel at ease until he had seen for himself that Laro was still alive and in one piece. 

Gerrick looked back at him suddenly, as if reading his mind. "… Have you figured out how you're going to break the news to him yet?"

"What news in particular?"  He grinned sharply, "I rather imagine he'll notice that I've arrived without out me having to spell it out for him."

"The whole magic thing… As far as I could tell before he left, the Kai ss perfectly content to treat you like you're made of glass… Forgive me if I just don't see him taking the news that you want to go toe-to-toe with the Selwe very well."

"He'll get over it."  Kuja replied heartlessly.  As much as he had thought things over on their journey, he didn't have any concrete plans.  Partly it was because he told himself that he wouldn't know what tactic to use until he saw for himself the state of the army. Mostly, he was ashamed to admit, it was because he couldn't seem to get past the first thirty seconds of any plan.  Once he got to the point where he actually /saw/ the man again, he would freeze up, emotion overruling logic and leaving him with a silly smile and no plan at all.  It was a concern that real life would play out much the same way.

// I'm going to gape like an idiot and he's going to think I was hit in the head along the way… Won't /that/ be a great way to start off our reunion… //

There was nothing to be done now but sternly tell himself to stop making such a fuss over one stubborn, illogical, far-too-charming soldier and get on with the smiting.  // You're a mage. // He reminded himself. // Calm, aloof, a reserved fount of wisdom and power… not a swooning virgin, and definitely not someone who is going to make a spectacle of themselves in front of god knows who… Just walk up to him… look him in the eye… and… don't smile. //

He smiled at the thought.

// Damn it, Kuja! Listen to yourself ! //  

The giddy feeling refused to cooperate. He distracted himself with waking up the napping woman and helping her fuss with her bags.  As much as he would never dream of telling her, he was beginning to tire of her constant prodding. The sooner she could be hustled off to the medical tent to be with her own kind, the sooner he could get some breathing room again.  He appreciated her efforts, but there was a limit to his new found friendly impulses. 

Anne's constant nagging about his physical wellbeing reminded him uncommonly of Mikoto. His not-sister had undoubtedly found something new to prod at, if she was still alive. Maybe Zidane was her new scientific subject. It was too much to hope for that she jab the stupid monkey-boy with needles at any random opportunity. 

He schooled his face back to its usual disinterest as they pulled through the encampment. There was a proper way to do things after all, years of reading about heroes and adventures had to be good for something.  So far, they were sadly unhelpful when it came to dealing with real life.  He didn't like to admit that maybe he wasn't cut out for 'nice' after all. 

// Once a villain… always a villain… even if just a mediocre one…. But hell… given how overly kind and good Laro is most of the time… he /needs/ a little more villainy in his life… //

If everyone else was going to be blinded by hero worship, it was the least he could do to watch the poor man's back.  Reaching forward, he prodded Gerrick rudely. "Where is he."

"Pushy little thing, aren't you."  

"I want to see him."

"We're going straight to the command area… don't be so fussy…" the General leaned back and smirked. "I promise to deliver you with full pomp right to his very doorstep… provided that he's at home, of course."

Kuja gave his friendly enemy a cool glare. "… You're enjoying this, aren't you."

"More than words can say. Now sit tight and let me find your besotted… god I can't even finish the sentence. Have I mentioned lately that the pair of you are immoral?"  The truck rolled to a stop in front of a pair of rather official looking tents and the officer hopped out to quickly consult with their rapidly gathering audience of junior officers and assistants.  Whatever news was being related, it seemed to get his whole attention.  The genome huffed in annoyance at being ignored. 

"Excuse me." He reached out and tugged on a nearby cadet.

The boy turned around and jumped in surprise. "You… I know you… you're the one who…"  Kuja smiled brittly, unsure if he was amused or depressed at his unique brand of fame.  There had once been a time when people had quivered in fear at the stories told of him. Lately there seemed to be rather more blushing instead.  It was a depressing change. He decided to cut the lieutenant off before he got distracted.

"Yes. Quite. Where is Nazer-kai?"

"He's… I mean… He's…"

"Right this way, Mr. Kuja…"  Gerrick's voice dripped with sarcasm as he gently coaxed the soldier back into the crowd and opened the door in pretended chivalry. "… It seems you're just in time. Our beloved general is in camp for the foreseeable future while his injuries are being tended to."

"Injuries?!"

The young general simply sighed. "… come along, they'll show the way…"  Too anxious to complain about his rudeness, the genome followed quietly.  

Compared with the city, the level of technology in the camp was impressive. Around the main tents electric lamps prevailed over torches, and the number of machines and vehicles was greater than he expected.  Despite the late hour people were still moving briskly around the roads, repairing and preparing for the next day's action.  Curious, he took it all in, adding it to his plans.  

// If the mechanics here are as good as those at the college, that would be useful indeed… //

His thoughts returned to the present as they stepped into a largish tent. Anne was chatting to another young man wearing now-familiar medical robes. She turned to beckon him as her new friend waited. "… He'll take you in to see the Kai now. I'm going to go set up the… you-know-what somewhere quiet."

Nodding, he followed his escort.  Her comment only reminded him that he still hadn't decided what to tell Laro. He saved that worry for another time.  Nobody else seemed very concerned about 'the great kai' being injured, so it couldn't be that bad. Sighing, he steeled himself and ducked through the canvas partition.  His arrival seemed to have come at a lull in conversation.  Gerrick turned away from an older soldier to give him a sardonic look.  The genome dismissed him with a snort, immediately fixing on his primary interest.  

Laro looked altogether stunned, almost forgetting to keep pressure on the wad of bandages he was holding against his shoulder.  Dirty, filthy really, but very much alive, he was stripped to the waist as one of the senior doctors prodded at his back.  Opening his mouth to say something, the dark-man fumbled it and simply blushed. To his dismay Kuja found his brain to be completely useless as well.  If they had been alone, he'd have simply kissed the man and gotten it over with, but pride kept him in place.  

The youngest of the three generals sighed in cynical amusement. "Ibat-kai, I have the… honor… to present to you… Mr. Kuja… chief strategist at court. He's come in order to have real-time data for his brilliant deductions… Nazer-kai, I imagine you're already /well/ acquainted…"  The white haired officer calmly pulled another drag of his cigar while Laro managed to look even more dumbstruck. Gerrick bowed crisply. "Now that he is arrived, my mission is complete. If you general's don't mind, I shall retire until the staff meeting in the morning?"

Eyes flickering to read Laro's condition, the older general nodded, lips hinting at a smile. "Sleep well, general."

Kuja swore he could hear the young officer snigger under his breath as he made his escape.  He suppressed a smirk.  Staring at Laro, no matter how tempting, was hardly professional. Instead he made an effort to inspect the room first, and then the other general.  Easily in his sixties, Ibat was a rather formidable presence, despite his relaxed air.  Sharp eyes studied him through the curls of smoke, occasionally flickering over to the dark man on the bed. Not for the first time, the genome lamented that his lover had a terribly expressive face.  

"Well well…  beauty and brains… I don't know whether to congratulate you, or be afraid for you…"  The comment only made Laro cringe, muttering something intelligible in replay.

"Did he tell you I've known him since he was just a little punk cadet with delusions about being a 'hero'…?"  The officer looked away from his former student to smirk at their new arrival.  "… he never listened to me, and now look at him, bloody commander in chief of the army…"

"… Nazer-kai seems a man to go his own way in things… whatever they might be." Kuja tilted his head, wondering how the older commander would fit into his plans. "… You too have seen your share of military success after all."

"I'm an unimaginative grunt." He disagreed. "Good at thinking on my feet and taking opportunities presented, but never had a knack for doing the impossible." 

"… Not crazy like me, you mean?" Finding his voice at last, Laro tried for a smile. Unfortunately the doctor managed to prod something painful at the same time and it degenerated into a hiss.

"Idiot, how many times have I told you… generals aren't supposed to stick their necks out…"

"… what am I supposed to do, sit on my hands and watch as I send men off to die?"

"You can't lead your troops effectively if you don't pull your head out of the fray long enough to look around… take today for instance."  Ibat took a breath, obviously capable of launching into a lecture on the subject, but was stalled by a placating hand.  He followed the pointed finger and stared at their guest.  There was definite humor in the pale depths of the soldier's eyes. "Begging your pardon, master-strategist."

"No no… Don't mind me, I entirely agree with you. He /is/ an idiot."  Kuja stepped forwards, shooing the medic back as he made his own inspection of the wound. Fingers trailed hesitantly along his partner's well-muscled arm to hover over his freely bleeding shoulder. Somehow it was easier to keep things professional when he didn't look the soldier in the eye. "… A few inches to the left and I'd have arrived in time for your funeral, /general/…"  

"A doctor as well? Goodness Laro, aren't you aiming a little above your usual?" 

The general cringed, "I was being careful." to Kuja, and "Will you stop talking about that?" to his mentor.

"… and you're bleeding like a stick pig…" The genome chose to ignore the teasing about Laro's former lovers.  He couldn't help but be curious, but there was plenty of time for gossip later. For now he was more worried about the damaged arm.  It looked as though the dark man's shoulder had been neatly impaled by something. They could bind it up, but Laro would be out of action for a while, not to mention in pain.  It seemed silly when there was such an easy alternative.

// … well… it would naturally bridge the conversation over to the /other/ reason I've come all this way. Probably the only reason he hasn't yelled at me yet is because we're in company… //

************************* 

"I really was being careful…" 

Looking to the doctor for agreement, Laro seemed to know he was trapped. The man could only shrug. 

For his part, Ibat was watching the courtesan with avid curiosity and ignored his plight. It was alarming how easily he could accept that the man was suddenly /here/ and not safely tucked miles away in the castle.  He shook his head, rejecting the comforting feeling of the pale scholar's presence in favor of coherent thought. Audience or not, he couldn't wait for privacy to demand an explanation.  "Really, Masa… what are you /doing/ here? I thought I told you to stay put!"

"I came to see you, of course." The silver-haired man arched an eloquent eyebrow, daring the soldier to scold him. "… Among other things." He tisked sternly, "What happened to you? You look like someone tried to run you through." 

"Something /did/ run me through…" He agreed mildly, refusing to be distracted by the throbbing in his shoulder. "… It's not safe here… you should be with the Duke."

"Strange, he rather thought I should be here…" As dainty as his fingers were, Kuja touched the wounded flesh with little hesitation, inspecting it with a professional sort of detachment. Laro tried not to wince as the injury complained at the intrusion. There was something going on that he didn't yet understand. A second doctor, this one a rather cute redhead, appeared at the door and exchanged a look with the courtesan that contained an entire conversation.  

 Eventually his prickly lover sighed, "Well we can't exactly afford to pull you off the field for a month while this heals, now can we…"

"I'd dearly love to hear another option." Ibat murmured in agreement.

"I don't think that long explanations will be necessary." Kuja replied briskly, spreading his hand over the wound, fingertips just touching the skin around the edges.  

His almost sub vocal murmur made the general look up in surprise, but the question stalled on his lips, shocked to silence for a second time that night; this time by the incandescent ripple of light that poured forth from his lover's fingers.  For a moment there was nothing but a warming cocoon of silence and when it drained away, he was left feeling just as grime-covered and hungry as before, but far less tired, and without a sign of bruise or wound anywhere.   

"Well well… that's something I haven't seen in a long time…"  Ibat's stunned comment broke the last of the spell. Somehow he tore his eyes away from the pale man's distant expression in order to look past him to where his old teacher sat watching. "…a very long time… How do you feel boy?"

Equally stunned his doctor looked like he was about to have a breakdown, Laro could sympathize with the man. Not knowing entirely what to do either.  He watched the pair of medics have a hasty conference which seemed to result in the girl pulling her superior out of the room.  

// … So she knew… that Masa… What /was/ that… //

"… I don't know…" He poked himself in the shoulder, fingers running over where a painful wound had been not a minute before.  Everything was as it should be; muscle, skin and bone all in place and intact without any sign that they had been otherwise. It was alarming.

"… pain?"  Kuja's soft question made him pause to think again.

// … magic… Its magic you fool… how the hell can Ibat be taking this so calmly… //  

His old friend seemed content to simply watch, or maybe he was lost in memory. It was hard to read the wrinkled features. 

"No… no pain…" He stretched a bit, expecting to be sore after the day's exertions. Nothing, even his shoulders seemed in perfect working order.  It was unnatural. It was also rather familiar.  He had felt this way once before.  

Laro reached up, catching one of the courtesan's hands in his own.  He winced at how grimy he was by comparison and vowed to find a scrub brush and bucket as soon as he stood up. There was something he had to do first.  

"… Thank you, Masa."  He smiled, not sure if it was a happy expression or just an awed one. "… I think… that's the second time you've done that… and I never thanked you then… so… Thank you…"

Blue eyes studied him, emotions flickering too fast to read as the delicate man chose his words. "… I'm surprised you remember that… you don't need to thank me for it. I did it for my own selfish reasons."

"If an old man might interrupt a moment…?" The older general cleared his throat. "One question, and then I think I'll let you two… catch up."  Laro couldn't help but blush again, feeling thirteen all over again.  If there were two people in his life he hadn't wanted to introduce to each other without preparation, it was this particular pair.  He had a premonition that it would only get more mortifying, despite Ibat's seeming approval.

Kuja looked over at him, unfazed in the least by the amused question. "… yes?"

"Are you restricted to the healing arts? Or do you have other talents." 

"… Where I come from, I was never known in particular as a specialist in shamanistic magics."

"A real mage then. How is it possible?"

"… I believe that I have Laro and yourself to thank for it." Looking up in surprise, the soldier watched his lover make a vague gesture at the roof. "… The fragments of the towers that you sent back… seemed to have awakened that which was suppressed within me."

He wasn't telling the entire truth. Laro knew enough about reading his friend's posture to see that much immediately.  

// Besides, if  the towers were all it was… then how… that time on the coast, I know it was him… magic… and that was well before he knew anything about shards. //

Ibat was no fool either, rubbing his chin, still fascinated. "Still… you'd have needed training… where were you from again?" He caught himself before either of them could fumble for an answer. "… ah well… tell me in the morning. These old bones are tired, and if I were you, boy, I'd go find a bath while your guest unpacks."

Looking down, Laro winced at the reminder of the slime and dust that had hardened into a sort of mud on his skin and clothing; added to that was the now incongruous blood drying on his arm and in his hair. A little cleaning up was definitely in order.  He nodded as his mentor slowly exited and gingerly stood as well. 

Alone with Masa, he couldn't help but reach out and catch him by the arm. Not wanting to get him dirty, he hesitated, torn between practicality and some romantic gesture.  He settled for a compromise, leaning down to kiss one of the elegant cheeks.  

"Idiot."  Anticipating him, even after so long apart, the silver-haired man tilted his face at the last moment so that lips met lips instead. 

"… I missed you." 

"I'm glad to hear it. You got my letters?"  The murmur was playful, so was the gentle nip of encouragement. Laro replied with a more businesslike pressure, tasting a flavor he had gone without for months.

"Yes, I did. Thank you."  He smiled as hands caught his shoulders, pulling him closer, demanding as ever. Then the lips beneath his stilled and he found himself primly pushed away. Kuja's expression rather strained. "I'm sorry?"

"… bath, Laro… Now."

"Come with me?"

"I join you. There's a few things I need to take care of first."  Kissing him again, the silver-haired man gave him a solid push towards the door.  Defeated, Laro moved to obey. Breathing in the cooler night air, he couldn't help but smile. As much as the cat-man's arrival could only mean more complications and worry, he could hardly be disappointed at the thought of having him there. Selfish perhaps, but he didn't care.  Still grinning, he set off to find a bucket with determined steps.

*************************

************************* 

-Lunar


	21. All Those Arrayed Against Us

Feather Flight: ** All Those Arrayed Against Us (part 21)**

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

***** 

Chafing his fingertips together to measure the magical charge left, he was comforted by the steady tingle in his blood.  Healing Laro hadn't taken as much effort as he had thought it would. The genome watched the soldier leave before making his way back to the main room of the spacious tent. Cots were along every wall and in rows down the middle, housing the wounded from the past several weeks of battle.  The smell of stale blood made him wrinkle his nose.  He had never been a fan of attending to sick and injured on Gaia, thinking himself above such petty concerns.  Now they just served to remind him of his mortality. It wasn't a cheering sight.

// But then… until a few weeks ago… I was no better than any of these men… They were hurt maybe retrieving the very shard I used to save myself… //

His conscience, although late-blooming, was very logical about things.  Torn between letting nature take its course, or getting involved, he froze in place listing to the random sounds of pain.  Kuja smiled sickly. The ironies in life were always more amusing when they happened to /other/ people.  The little moral voice in the back of his head wasn't above pressing it moral advantage.  He was already involved. The only reason the others weren't asking him to help was because they were still too innocent to know what he was capable of.  Cursing his luck, and his generous impulses, he knelt down next to a man who was practically mummy-wrapped in bandages, not quite touching him in order to check his status.  Without help the young soldier would be dead by morning.  He bit his lip in frustration. 

// You're a coward Kuja… //

The voice sounded remarkably Zidane-like, high handed and smug in the knowledge that it was right.  Kuja cursed it under his breath.  

// But if I spend all my strength on healing them I'll have nothing for tomorrow… //

The argument sounded pathetic, he twisted his fingers into his robe.  Tactically speaking, Laro could probably manage one more day just fine without him. No matter how talented, one mage, in relation to an entire war, wasn't really all that much different from one cannon, a convenient tool, but hardly likely to change the course of the battle unless applied with careful planning.  And as far as Clay knew or would report tomorrow, all he was good at was single combat against hollow shells. 

// If I were them, I'd hold me in reserve, wait for the most opportune moment… So /think/ every twelve hours… that's your window… and it's already been two… so in ten more hours you charge up and get on with your life whether you do or don't try to help these poor people… //

The selfish, and traditionally far more vocal,  part of him pointed out that using /that/ much magic would probably leave him rather queasy until he was able to artificially restore what was spent.  If he wanted his reunion with his lover to go unspoiled, and mentally he agreed fervorently that he did, then it would be better to conserve his strength.  Putting his own juvenile needs ahead of those selflessly dying, it had a nasty ring to it.  He blamed Laro. The man's damnable sense of honor was contagious.  There was no question of what /Laro/ would do in this situation.  Kuja ground his teeth, reminding himself that that sort of selflessness was probably what had almost killed the dark-skinned fighter earlier that afternoon.  Someone had to be the voice of reason and moderation.

// Just ten hours, and you can walk it off as if you slept the whole night through. What the hell could happen in ten hours…? Aside from your hypothetical rendezvous with… and he would understand… if you told him… he would… be proud… //

He stood up as if stung.  // Shit. //  Kuja could almost feel another layer of his supposed 'evil' nature burning away as he cleared his throat to get one of the doctor's attention.

"…Excuse me… is this all the wounded… or is there another tent…?"

"Um… well these are the worst… we try to let the less wounded men go back to their teams to rest and help with camp duties… they get depressed if they stay around all of this…" The young man gestured around at the cots. 

The genome thanked him and then started counting. Spell-for-spell, a group this size was best handled all at once. He wished he had an artifact to make the casting easier, knowing that it was impossible. At least it seemed that all spells were more potent here then back on Terra or anywhere else.  He had expected the cure spell to leave Laro sore but functioning, instead it had all but restored him. It reminded him of his attempt against the training-dummy, and gave him confidence that even the first level spell would do a fair amount of good for those around him.  He could always go back and repeat the process for the more severely injured if he had the strength. At the very least, he'd buy them an extra day.

// Or an extra ten hours… //

In a fit of devil-may-care generosity, he included the exhausted doctors in his count. They looked like they could use a jolt.  Kuja compared the final number in his head to the level of his energies and did a depressingly quick calculation. It could be done, but he'd be good for nothing until morning.  

// But I wanted… //  

He crushed the childish thought and started rolling up his sleeves.  The other medics in the room were simply staring at him as if he had gone crazy. He was inclined to agree with them. "… Is Ms. Anne present? I would like to speak with her."

"…Mr. Kuja are you… can you?"  Guessing his intent, the woman was at his side, wide-eyed and rather unintelligible with hope. "… but there are so many…"

"… I may need to lay down when I'm done. I really have no idea what spending this much all at once is going to do to me…" He sighed. "Still, it ought to be attempted."

"But your health!" The doctor really was a considerate creature, even now thinking of him instead of the dozens of men lying in the room. He selfishly basked in the concern even as he shook his head. He had no delusions anymore that his life was worth all that much more than anyone else's.  If he had, why would he have bothered to slog half way across a continent to fight at Laro's side?

"It won't hurt me… I'll just be useless until the next cycle on the shard, that's all…"

"You're sure?" The red head fidgeted. "You know what will happen if you over extend…"

"Hush woman, you're making me nervous."  He smiled grimly. It wasn't true. He'd have been nervous even without her anxieties. Wracking his brain he couldn't remember ever trying to cast on this many people all at once. Not anticipating any weird magical side effects of collateral drain of energies didn't mean there wouldn't be some.  Kuja didn't like working without a margin of safety, but he didn't see what choice he had.  Finally prepared, he gave a silent blessing that it was too late for anyone to be cutting or stitching at their patients. The last thing he wanted was to alarm some doctor by having the wound close around him as he worked. 

The spell swarmed inside his head as he built it, cot by cot, dabbing out an invisible floss of energy to each and every occupant, for the main bulk of the energy to spool down when ready. By the time he was done he stood at the center of a virtual web. There was no time to back out of it now, he decided fatalistically ad he murmured the final word of the litany. "… Cure."

In hindsight, he realized he might have wanted to warn the people involved about the visual component of the magic. Green and gold light filled the room, blossoming forth from the beds like the progressive flares of a dynamite fuse as it burned.  Some of the doctors shouted in worry as they moved to check patients only to be engulfed by a flash of their own.  Luckily one of the primary after-effects of the spell was a sense of calm and wellbeing, otherwise Kuja might have felt rather silly about starting a riot.  

Power bled out of him quickly enough to send the blood rushing from his head. He blinked and sank to the floor to put his forehead on his knees, trying hard not to black out.

// Being heroic feels like shit… //

Around the room, the change was immediate.  Men suffering from simple broken bones and lacerations shook off the sleepy lethargy and sat up to find themselves whole. Soldiers with more complex problems and missing limbs found their fevers and infections gone as if they never had been, one officer, shattered arm still aching but now whole looking, got two of his more intact neighbors to put aside their congratulatory dance and come help him peel off the itchy bandages on his forehead.  The worst of the injured slept a little easier as the pain faded, bodies soaking up the strength offered to knit together weeks' worth of tissues in minutes.  Newly rejuvenated field medics and nurses shook off their surprise and bustled into action.

The only person not better off from the spell in fact, was its instigator.  Feeling fairly self-pitying, Kuja grumbled as his personal physician helped him to his feet and guided him into a private side chamber. Blessedly a cot, and the blanket-covered tripod where his shard was stored, was at the ready.  Settling him onto the bed, she fussed over him a moment before scuttling off with promises of something to drink.  He stared at the canvas ceiling for a moment, trying to be happier for the people celebrating their 'miracle' just beyond his screens.  It almost helped. Mustering energy to move, he reached out and tugged the drape off his crystalline companion.  

The sight of what was underneath made him forget himself in a struggle to sit up.  The milky surface was twinkling happily, light sheeting across the face of it in vague patterns of lines. Tired, he tried to fathom what he was seeing, but the activity was beyond his befuddled understanding.  At least the solution was simple.

Reaching out again, he put two fingers on the stone's surface, and mentally prodded the power contained within.  The genome resonated with the magical 'focus' for a moment, getting a sense of what it was pulling from.  It felt a little different from usual.  Instinctively he understood that the angle wasn't perfect, but somehow, the link to Zidane's crystal was still there, long after it should have been cut off.  Not one to argue with convenience, he happily began to pull, losing himself in the comforting wash of power from the distant source. 

***** 

Something sparkled to life on the virtual map, a power surge measured where no power should have been, right in the middle of the continent. The phenomena caused a flurry of alarm among the watchers, and even the Queen was distracted from her egg-laying in order to be informed.  This wasn't the first surge to be detected, but it was different from the others, breaking the pattern they had witnessed for several weeks.  She stared at the bright point of light, equally as intense as the known sources, it burned like a new Tower on the map, a com-crystal transmitting, but not to her ship.  The large insect clicked her mandibles in annoyance.

_What is its source?_

Her advisors hissed softly, not wanting to admit ignorance.  It had been less alarming before, when the light had come from far away from the actual battle deep into where the natives still held sway and she could not see. Over the past weeks it had begun to move however, moving toward the battle line even as her Mentor had, the brief twinkle shifting position every night as if to anticipate her servant's arrival.  It troubled her.  The warm blooded mammals were far too adaptable, if they could master even fragments of her technology, there was no telling how far they could go with it.  A movable com-crystal, she hesitated, watching the numbers flash by, picking up the frequency but not able to decipher any signal.  

It didn't seem like a weapon.  The sporadic flares didn't effect the other Towers, nor did they prelude any attacks that she was aware of. Shifting, she waved one of the attendants closer.

_Has there been any report from the __Mentor__?_

The drone nodded briefly, chirping out the ground commander's most recent message. Her antenna shivered with alarm. Magical energies weren't supposed to be possible beneath the net.  The erratic and damaging power of the natives was sealed off.  Inspecting the dark patch on her map, the set of disabled Towers, she wondered if her opponents had /this/ as their intention all along.  Crafty creatures. The Queen vaguely recalled the specimen they had captured several years ago.  A frighteningly illogical and savage mind, cluttered with emotions that she couldn't understand.  An entire species of individuals was a terrifying idea.  Even after three decades, she didn't see how they could function.  Somehow in their chaos, they had found a sort of strength.

_Can we link this rogue crystal to the Net? I wish to communicate._

Several advisors moved to speak at once, gesticulating wildly in disagreement. The Queen overruled them with a thought, goading the one at the controls to do as she ordered.  Chattering nervously, the young attendant complied.  A gold line twinkled into life on her map, jumping from one of the Towers at the edge of the void right into the very center of it, bringing the mysterious crystal into her network. 

Following the open channel with her thoughts, she found to her surprise, that there was another consciousness there ahead of her.  The crystal itself seemed to be aware.

_Who?_

Confusion, alarm, and curiosity to match her own, for a moment she wondered if she wasn't somehow catching a reflection, seeing her own awareness bounced back at her.  There was something wrong about it, the mind feeling unpleasantly alien as it came in contact with her own. 

_… who are you…? _

She almost let go of the channel in surprise at the demanding question.  Not Selwe, she tried to understand the overtones of the other sentience. Impressions of exhaustion, warmth, and strangely, /softness/ came along with the words. The concept, unknown to her people except by proxy, confirmed the fact. Pushing away her distaste, she tried to get clarification.  The last native she had tried to communicate with hadn't been at all receptive. The specimen might however have been an inferior sample, despite her drone's insistence that it had been treated as a Mentor among its fighters.  This new mind was far more coherent, almost crystalline in the purity of its focus.

_Are you Mammal?_

There was a stronger wave of confusion, this time tinted with amusement. _I am Kuja. Who are you?_

_We do not know 'Kuja,' that is an incorrect designation, are you Mammal?_  The chance for an exchange of information was too promising. She tried to make the other mind understand her demand.  It stubbornly refused any sort of deeper probe, forcing her to accept only the information volunteered. Resolutely, she pushed again.

_I am a mammal I suppose, are you the Queen? _

The creature's mind was well protected, none of the openings available that she was expecting. It wasn't even similar to the specimen's, leaving her in a completely unknown situation.  That was the problem with individuals, she decided, no two were ever alike. They could never be regulated and controlled like her army could, and so were fundamentally useless as servants or slaves.  Unpredictable, they were simply too dangerous.

_We prefer to think of it as making for stimulating conversation. Having experienced the alternative personally, I can vouch for the fact that having everyone thing the same way is frightfully dull. Not that I'd expect you to agree._

The thought caught her off guard, the information unsolicited.  She almost dropped the channel a second time, suddenly aware that while she could not read her new contact, he – she stored the sense of gender away for further study – was under no such limitation.  This individual might easily be able to crush her consciousness if it wanted.  Common sense stated that she terminate the connection immediately. As interesting as the exchange of information was, it was too dangerous. This mind was not like the other mammals, it was an aberration, pulling power from elsewhere on her network, she regretfully prepared to destroy it.

_Different isn't always dangerous. _

Reading her thoughts again, the sentience seemed fearless.  Either it wasn't aware that she was about to terminate it, or it was confident that she didn't have the ability.  She considered the problem as she replied.  _Differentiation is inefficient. _

_Differentiation is necessary for survival.  _The calm voice disagreed.  

She pushed the thought aside. The last time she had had an actual argument was with another Queen. That had been centuries ago and she hadn't like it then either. Of all her children only her advisors, and maybe the Mentor were capable of forming their own opinions, but even so they seldom were so blunt or contradictory.

_You will be destroyed._

_No. We won't. _Impossibly, the native reached down the channel, following it back to the Tower. For one horrifying instant it the mammal seemed to be everywhere at once, consciousness taking in the entire network.  The power she held in reserve in the conduits to burn him away fizzled and released harmlessly in the atmosphere.  _You cannot stop me. _

It was too much. The Queen terminated the connection to the rogue, afraid of what the crystal and its master were capable of.  Shaking she watched the computer projection for a moment, the twinkle of light in the darkness gradually fading, presence gone elsewhere.  There was no doubt that it would be back.  Such power, in a male no less, was incomprehensible.  Cleaning her antenna, she came to the only logical conclusion possible.  

_Sent a message to __Mentor__… There is a creature that is the cause of the magical disturbances, find and destroy it. Do not allow it access to the Towers._

Mentor would take care of it.  Combat was what he was designed for. 

***** 

"Kuja!" 

He let go of the shard and became aware of the shouting around him.  He didn't remember having stood up, but he obviously was since his initial impulse was to take a step back. Weak-kneed he staggered, and was caught from behind. The genome leaned into body behind them, trusting whoever it was to keep him upright as he tried to coordinate his arms enough to cover his ears with his hands. Everything was too bright, too loud, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to explain his complaint with a tongue that felt just as strange as the rest of him.

"… stop shouting…. Stop shouting…" His voice sounded like it was coming from far away. Somehow he must have made himself understood because instead of the din of everyone bellowing at once, they fell to hushing each other loudly instead.  

"… Masa…?"  The volume was more reasonable. Pulling his hands away from his ears, he dared to open his eyes a crack.  Focusing on things became easier as he concentrated on it but things got dizzying when he moved his head too fast. His human prop pulled him backwards and down onto the cot.  "Come on Masa… you're going to be fine…"

"What the hell happened?"  Another voice loudly disagreed.

"Keep your damn voice down. Idiot." 

Slowly, ears followed eyes in returning to working order. Instead of hearing everything as if from over a bad communication link, the different voices started to sound familiar.  Testing his theory, he cleared his throat lightly and made an educated guess. "… Laro?"

"I'm here."  Literally in the man's lap, the genome inhaled and easily picked out the overtone of soap. 

// He's whispering…?  God… What a headache… Did I just… what the hell was that… //

"… What happened?" He tested his voice again, pleased that it sounded more normal than before.

"Just about everything, from the sound of it… I leave you alone for thirty minutes… Thirty! …and you single-handedly attempt to put my entire army into disarray… at midnight no less…"

"…didn't mean to…"  Looking around with more confidence, he easily identified several members of his audience, including a rather gray-faced Gerrick and a crowd of stunned doctors and senior officers. It reminded him of something. "… The injured?"

"It's a bloody miracle…" The oldest of the medics was looking at him as if not entirely sure whether to kneel in thanks or start fussing over his blood pressure.  Kuja wasn't entirely keen on being on the receiving end of either.  He didn't have much of a choice, Anne, being the most inured to his magical antics, was already reaching past his general's cradling arms in order to catch his wrist in a practiced hold.  

She smiled at him encouragingly. "It's amazing… we sent half of them back to their teams because we couldn't find any reason to keep them here… by morning they'll probably want to canonize you."

"No thanks. Just… thought I could help…" He replied weakly. The oldest of the three generals was back as well, watching him with a sort of ironic smile.  Kuja didn't quite feel up to dealing with the man quite yet, eyes skipping over some avidly curious men on crutches in order to stare at the crystal shard. There was no sign of anything malignant about it now. The shimmer was still there however, going just as strong as it had when he had touched it.  It was a mystery, but one that could wait.

// … There was someone there… the Selwe…?  Incredible… //

He would have to tell Laro and the others, just not right now.  The mage shook his head to get rid of the last of the weird detachment he was feeling.  Whatever the aftereffects of the odd conversation were, they didn't seem to have done any permanent harm.  Rubbing his fingers together he could feel the crackle of energy there and waiting for him as it should be.  She hadn't interfered with that at least.  He wondered if she could.

// She knows, every time I tap the crystal, she seems to know… but I don't think she knows why… //

The moment of heady realization, when he had caught a glimpse of the Net from the inside, had been amazing. The level of control the aliens had over the crystals, and the frequencies they emitted was comparable to Terra at the height of its power.    

"I'm alright now… sorry about that…" He made to move, but Laro only tightened his grip, seeming to want to keep him close. "Really… no harm done…"

"What was that?"

"… feedback, I think." Kuja tried to turn and face his lover, but was at best only able to manage a glimpse of the long nose and a few of the wet braids tickling his forehead. "What did it look like on this end?"

"You were lit up like a bit of lithium." Gerrick commented dryly. "And that was /after/ your little rainbow-colored fireworks display in the main-tent."

"Not fireworks." He disagreed blandly. "Just magic, that's all."

"… that's all he says… You nearly scared the crap us, pulling a stunt like that with no warning…"  Not appeased at all, the young officer scrubbed his head with his hands in frustration.

Anne finally relented with a sigh and let his arm go. "Pulse… a little elevated… probably due to excitement…"

"No, really?"  The genome gave her a sour look. She simply stuck her tongue out.

"We tried to pull you off the stone, but you were sort of… stuck…"

"Good thing you didn't, you might have hurt me."

"You didn't look like you were doing very well as it was!"

"Ah well. For what it's worth, I don't think it will be happening again."  He felt a little silly holding court from Laro's lap while the others debated the meaning of it all around him. 

The dark man simply murmured, "Why not?" at a pitch only he could hear. 

Leaning back a little for a more private conference he tilted his head. "… because they won't be stupid enough to try and interfere with me like that twice."

"… /they/…?"

"… We'll talk later, hmmm?" He petitioned, wanting some time to get his thoughts together. "… I'm really alright. Better then I was when I arrived, in fact. Could we perhaps continue this… somewhere a little less rowdy?"

"Hmmm."  The muscled fighter caught Anne's attention as she packed up her kit. "… What do you say, Doctor?"

To her credit she simply shrugged, keeping the long explanations to herself. "He's in good health. I'd say some peace and quiet is definitely in order. All things considered he's done more good than harm tonight."

 "Fair enough. Tell the chief that I want a full report on those released from here in the morning… sometime… Everyone else…?"  The general looked at his audience with tired humor. "Its late people… go to bed, would you?"

***** 

Aside from the small man's grumbling protests, Laro found it no burden at all to carry him the short distance from one tent to another.  If any of his sentries wanted to gossip about it, they were welcome to.  Somehow, he had a hunch they had more exciting things to speculate on at the moment.  Forty odd young men who up until an hour ago had been slated for transport back from the front due to injuries were now bounding around the camp as if they were fresh off of a week-long-vacation.  By morning even those out of sight of the 'miracle' would be talking about it as if they had been there themselves.

A hand prodded and then more aggressively jabbed his shoulder, making him pause to look down. "I'm carrying you, and that's final, stop nagging!"

"Shut up and hold still a minute!" Irritated, the silver-haired man seemed to have completely forgotten about his complaints, intent on craning his neck to look up. "… stars!"

"Huh?" He tilted his head back to take a look for himself. Overhead the twinkle of distant constellations spanned the darkness. 

// Yes… stars… Oh! He probably hasn't seen clear sky yet! Stupid…. //

"Yes…" He smiled, "lots of stars… Pretty aren't they…"

"That's why the shard was working… there's no interference…"  pulling on his shoulders for leverage, the dainty mage studied the heavens carefully.  In the distance where the next Tower stood, the edge of the Net spread forth, golden lines branching out and disappearing into the distant horizon on all sides. The irregular shaped hole overhead enormous when seen from beneath. 

"Whatever you just did, Masa, it was amazing… They pulled me out of my damn bath because the Tower over there suddenly tried to spawn a new thread right over our heads… Maybe the Selwe were trying to close the gap… but it's gone now…"

"… No… I don't think so…" The slender man settled back into a more convenient hold. "I think that might have been my fault."

"Your… you can control the Net?"  Not sure if he wanted an answer to the question or not, he walked quickly towards 'home.'

"Who me? No, I don't think so… but… I think… I understand how it works a lot better now…"  Using their relative privacy, the pale scholar tried to explain what had happened.  Laro was just happy he had them safely inside the tent and seated on bed before most of it sunk in.  Feeling more than a little shaky himself, he couldn't help but hug his partner close to prove he was still there.  The way the smaller man described it, was too close to the things he remembered.

"… Don't ever do that again…"

"She didn't hurt me. I don't think she even knows how…"

"Still… don't…"

Finally face to face, the long fingered hands reached up to soothingly pet his forehead and neck. "Shhhh. See? I'm fine…"

"I know…" Internalizing the message was another problem, he willed his limbs to stop trembling.  Obviously Masa was unhurt, it hadn't been the nightmarish experience he remembered.

// That feeling like someone is peeling you open and climbing in to try on your body for size… god… get out… get out of my mind… // He shook off the horror with a shudder, forcing himself to think only about the present warmth and companionship.  It had been months since he had anyone to hang onto, it was remarkably pleasant.

"Shhhh… what is it Laro…? I'm here, you can tell me…"

"Too…" There wasn't even a word for how bad it had felt. It had been worse than any torture he could name. "… too ugly… I don't want to think about it right now…"

"Then don't."  Masa agreed with a chuckle, twining his arms around his neck, to return the embrace.  "I don't mind."

"Thank you." He sighed in relief. Even fresh from the toil of the road, his lover smelled good. A moment fumbling with buttons had the already loose jacket free and pushed out of the way. Laro burrowed his face against the elegant sweep of the man's neck, inhaling deeply.

"I must smell like a mix of motor oil and antiseptic…"

"No… you smell like sweat and desert… and a little of antiseptic…" He didn't bother to move his head, speaking directly into the slender shoulder.  The reply provoked a snort of laughter from his pillow. 

"Don't suppose there's any hot water left…" 

"Probably a whole tub full… I'd only gotten through the preliminary rinse off… wanted to soak a minute or two without carrying half the crud in with me… but then I got distracted…"

The silver-haired man chucked at his aggrieved tone. "… Well… I'll wash your back if you wash mine… hmmm? That way we can be clean when we curl up later… and you can tell me again how much you missed me."

// And here I thought that no force on earth could compel me to move from this spot… // 

 The soldier sat up slowly and smiled. "… You have yourself a deal."

***** 

Up with the dawn, Clay spared himself the luxury of a clean uniform and a meal eaten while not on the road. Sitting at the officer's table with the others he speculated about the aliens movements, the efficiency of the new guns, and whether or not the oatmeal tasted more like grits before paying his complements and cheerfully making his way to the command tent to see what the senior officers had planned.  

What they had planned apparently, was to sleep in.

Ibat's second in command gave him a shrug, "The Kai is up, but he's an old guy, you know? He went down to look at the field, saw the bugs weren't fixing to move with the dawn, and figured he was still tired. Said we could meet in an hour."

"Where's Nazer-Kai?"  

"Can't say that I've seen him yet today. Probably sleeping in as well, since he was injured yesterday."

// Right… injured… then healed… then… //  

He /really/ didn't want to think about what might have, could have, probably had happened once the general had carried Kuja off into the night.  He having had quite long of a day /before/ the incident in the hospital and its bizarre aftermath. 

// Just as 'doting' as before he left… what a way to run a bloody army… // Irritated, he decided to follow Ibat's lead and stalked to the ridge to take in the view.  The sun was still pretty low, bathing the valley in cheerful yellow. Scanning the entire barren basin proved that there was nothing moving around. The litter of black shells, especially at the base of the hillside was just that. He sighed as he slouched down next to the lookouts, wondering what the aliens were up to. 

"When was the last time you guys had a quiet morning like this…?"

The captain put down his scope and rubbed his eyes to give them a break. "… Does 'never' count?" He and his assistant grinned at each other before looking back at him. "Well not since laying claim to this lovely bit of rock, at any rate, sir."

Clay snorted, wincing as he tried to look towards the horizon where the enemy was hypothetically waiting. "… No movement at all?"

"Oh, they're out there all right. At the moment we're just doing a few counts while they're standing still, see if we can't keep a tally of what we're up against, sir."

"And what /are/ we up against?"

"Everything but the kitchen sink."  The younger officer brought the optical reader back to his eyes, trusting it to filter out the excess sunlight and let him get back to work. "… more are coming in every day… big ones… Yesterday's count should be on file with the Kai's staff, sir"

"The kai's are both taking the morning off…"

"Today looks to be a good day for it." Either not hearing, or not acknowledging his sarcasm, the captain seemed perfectly content with the news. "… Lot of folks probably enjoying a second cup of coffee for a change. The team on cannon #2 got permission to do a full overhaul of the internal-assembly. They've brought cannon #3 online for emergencies but we don't really seem to have any on the agenda, sir." 

"Fair enough, I'll stop distracting you from your duties then."  Turning back to camp, he decided he might as well kill some time looking through the reports. To his surprise, the oldest general was back from his nap and doing much the same.

Ibat lifted his mug in an informal salute. "Ah for the vigor of youth. I hear you've been waiting on me, boy, my apologies."

"I hear you've only just arrived yourself…" Acquiring his own cup, Clay helped himself to some of the reports as well, browsing through the logs for the crucial details.  The amount of action the army had seen in the past two weeks was remarkable.  Hardly a day seemed to go by without some sort of skirmish. 

"Indeed. Saw a few interesting sights along the way too… Makes me glad to see that Nazer was kind enough to catch and keep the highlands, I can tell you that."

The younger general looked up from his charts, quickly catching the meaning. He grimaced at the memory. "I ran into a Digger down in the passes last year… lost three squads…"

"Evil critters…"  The gray haired man agreed. "There's one in the count as of last week, but they haven't spotted it since."

"… wonder where it went…"

"Hopefully? Far, far away."  The kai snorted again. "Ask my major about the one that nearly 'got' him, we ended up stealing some of the plating off what was left of it and armoring our jeeps."

Clay looked up at the senior officer, impressed with the candid revelation. If there was one man in the military that deserved everyone's respect, it was the ancient soldier calmly sipping his coffee on the other side of the table.  It was funny to realize that this was the first real conversation he'd ever had with the living legend. 

// God, here I was being my usual stupid self… and never realized that I was talking shop with none other than Everet Ibat… I can't believe it… I've really /made it/… I'm a /general/… //

After all the frustrations and politicking that had come with his initial promotion, he had never thought he'd get his chance in the field.  It was soul satisfying to sit back and realize that it had finally happened.  

"What's the matter son, you look like you've just had an epiphany."  Chuckling, the older officer picked up another file, flipping through it idly. "Damn, I don't have the patience for this that I used to. Let me know if you find anything exciting."

"Yes sir."  Pleased, Clay put himself to work. "Is there something in particular you're looking for?"

"Yeah. Advanced technology… I figure I can just beat it out of Nazer if the lazy sod ever drags himself out of bed, but in the mean time, a little proactive reading won't hurt, and from what I've gleaned so far, the fellow could really use a few hours of R&R with a sympathetic… companion."  Pale blue, the old man's eyes twinkled mischievously.

"I don't want to think about it."

"You're the one who brought the little thing here…"  Ibat argued congenially. "You must know something about the fellow, although god knows I nearly took him for a woman on first inspection."

"You're not alone in that, I assure you."

"Nazer has always had interesting tastes, I suppose."  The general leaned back in his chair, "… where as I'm too old for them… and it looks like you're too rule-bound. Pity, you're young, you ought to enjoy life more."

"I prefer to focus on my work."

"Trust me, it'll still be there waiting for you if you let it sit for a while."  Scratching his chin, the grizzled man sighed in amusement. "… Still, it's a shame to waste such a convenient morning… and some of my news just can't wait."  

He watched as the senior officer pulled his feet off the table and stood up, stretching in a way that proved that sixty or not, he still had plenty of muscle to back up his brains. "Off to kick the boy out of bed, hold the fort would you?"

"You're going personally?"

"Well it's hardly the sort of thing I'd force a junior officer to do." Ibat grinned, "… it'd be bloody embarrassing now wouldn't it… besides, it's not often I can make Nazer blush, I find it reminds me of the good old days."

"Good luck."   Determined to never volunteer to go anywhere near the dark skinned soldier's tent for anything short of alerting him to the imminent end of the world, Clay refilled his coffee and reading.

***** 

Laro came awake with something tickling his nose, he tried blowing it away, but got a mouthful of the silky stuff instead.  Brain waking up in lazy stages, he tried to cope with the situation and finally, resorted to opening his eyes to take a look.  The sight was an altogether lovely one.  Even in the tawny shadow caused by the canvas, Masa seemed to be made of polished silver and palest cream.  Leaning closer to the sleeping features, he noticed a faint scattering of sun-induced freckles just along the top of the nose and cheeks.  

It added a childish air to the normally impeccable man that he hadn't had since his time on the coast.  Not able to help himself, Laro leaned down and kissed them lightly, not really want to wake his lover quite yet.  Somewhere deep under the tangled sheets, a tail tickled his knee playfully. He chucked at the touch and shifted a little to avoid it. 

// Masa must be dreaming of chasing something. //

Remembering the silvery man's occasional cat-like antics only made him smile wider. He carefully pulled a hand free from the bedding and tucked the errant strands of hair away from the delicate face before burrowing close again. With a little wiggling he was even able get his arm back beneath the sheets as well, sighing happily as he caressed the bare skin of waist, hip and thigh. Tired as they had been, they had managed a perfectly acceptable, even playful, reunion.  Given the anxieties surrounding his last seduction of the cat-man he was pleasantly surprised at Masa's enthusiasm.  It was nice to be wanted after all; it had been hard to tell from just letters alone.

The mage murmured in his sleep, shifting a little in order to curl closer into the embrace, lips moving gently against his cheek.  He couldn't guess what time it was, surprised that his aide hadn't tried to wake him. Usually he didn't need the help, up even before the sun when he couldn't deal with his dreams anymore. 

// Did I even dream last night?  I can't remember anything after… /that/… // He smiled against the soft skin of Masa's neck. 

// Probably passed out in a way completely uncivilized and started snoring… //

"… Laro… you're either laughing in your sleep… or… just laughing…"  Yawning hugely, his lover tried, and failed to find an alternative to his initial assumption. The soldier surrendered his ability to pet the soft skin in favor of pushing himself up to capture a kiss. It wasn't much of a struggle, the silver haired man was more than willing to help him welcome in the day in style. There was definitely something to be said for waking up to a willing lover.  He tried to encourage the hands running down his back, but found his mouth otherwise occupied. 

// Definitely nice to be missed… // 

They moved with no particular urgency, waking up to each other and to the pleasures offered with no agenda in mind.  The sweet rush of release swept through him, carrying the last of the cobwebs with it. He kissed the damp forehead beneath him, feeling the shorter man tremble under his seeking fingers and mouth as he found his own fulfillment.  Masa sank back into the pillows with a contented sigh, allowing himself to be kissed and fussed over without complaint. 

"I don't envy whoever does your laundry today Laro… they're going to have a fit over the sheets."

"They'll get over it… and if they don't… I guess I'll learn how to do them myself."

"In your /copious/ free time… of course."

Laro laughed at the dry comment. "Believe me, Masa, if there is the chance of them getting dirty in the same way again, I'd /make/ the time to scrub them between skirmishes."

"You are impossible…"  The pale scholar chuckled, pulling him down for a thorough kiss. "… but I admit, I'd be hard pressed to resist a man willing to do his own laundry just to thrill me with fresh linens…"

"See? It'd be worth being late to a war or two…"  He joked as he settled back down beside his lover, wrapping his arms around him to keep him close.

"We'll have to get up eventually."

"Hmmm," the dark man agreed, not willing to take the initiative just yet.

"If only to tell the old man that peeping is extremely rude."  It took a moment for the words to sink in; Masa's conversational tone lulling him into a false sense of calm.  

Laro propped himself up on an elbow to peer across the room. Sure enough, a very familiar gray haired officer was waving congenially at him from his sitting area. "How long have you been there…?"

"Seem to have come in just in time to catch the end of what must have been a rather amusing bit of speculation on the erotic properties of laundry. Pity your friend there has such good ears."  Completely without shame, his old teacher toasted them with his mug.  

Masa, still curled against his shoulder, sighed in annoyance.  "Voyeur."

"Possibly, but usually I prefer more breasts." 

"… Stop it both of you."  Wishing that the ground below would swallow him up wouldn't resolve anything. He closed his eyes, willing his cheeks to their usual hue. When he was somewhat confident that he could manage to look at his former teacher with out cringing, he opened them again. "I take it I'm late to my own debriefing?"

"Not really, but if you don't get your lazy ass out of bed soon, you will be."

"…pushy old fart."

"Insolent puppy."

Masa's not so kind and loving hands assisted him out of bed with a firm push.  His lover promptly claimed the rest of the bedding, burrowing under it with a happy sigh. Not amused, he covered himself with a towel that was conveniently in reach before digging under the blanked for a pinch-able bottom. The yelp was definitely entertaining, as was the embarrassed blush when the smaller man sat bolt up right and hissed at him.

"… Surely our new strategic advisor should be briefed as well?" He smiled sweetly as the older general simply laughed.

"I take back everything nice I've ever said about you, Laro Nazer."

"You don't mean that."  He chuckled as he tucked the towel around him and padded off behind the screen to quickly scrub down with the now cold water.  

A grumbled, "The hell I don't." drifted from the vicinity of the bed. 

"I'll see you in an hour then, boy, Mr. Kuja… we'll provide the coffee, of course."  Ibat made his escape in characteristic style, strolling out before he could put on a pair of pants and yell at him properly.  It was for the best, he decided as he emerged from the screened off tub in time to be tackled by kiss-seeking-cat-man. They very nearly both ended up head down in the cold water as he tried to regain his balance under the onslaught, but it ended rather satisfactorily, voracious lips teasing his and briefly distracting him one last time from the world beyond the canvas walls. 

Just as soon as it began, it was over, Masa wriggling from his grip in order to quickly tidy himself and dig through his bag for a fresh change of clothing.  Somehow they got out into the sunshine without mishap, and he squinted at the horizon, amazed at how late the morning was. He sighed realizing that it really was time to get to work.

"Come along, /general/." His lover chuckled, "I actually want to hear what your old letcher has to say… not to mention check over the maps…"

"I still can't believe that /you/ are our damned strategist… why didn't you /tell/ me before yesterday?"

"I didn't want you not following perfectly good advice because of any misconceptions you might have about /me/," the silvery man rationalized calmly.  "If I could have thought of a way to come here and continue my role anonymously, believe me, I'd have considered it."

"Surely I'm not /that/ bad…"  Laro tried to defend himself. "I mean, how was I to know…"

"I tried to tell you… you just were too busy worrying about your 'poor fragile flower' to listen…"  

The general cringed under the analysis, grimly realizing that while Masa was capable of sweetness in private, he was determined to be all business otherwise.  Falling in step, he sighed and lead the way to where the others were waiting. "Yes, Mr. Kuja, anything you say Mr. Kuja, my sincerest apologies, Mr. Kuja…"

"I love you, Laro."

Said so quietly he might have missed them, and very possibly meant entirely in jesting reply to his complaint, they were still enough to make him turn and stare.  The pale courtier simply raised a eyebrow, feigning ironic amusement, but the look was completely done in by the pink blush in his cheeks. They stared at each other, seeming mutually amazed, until Masa coughed slightly to break the mood. "… Stop staring at me, I'm not going to repeat myself."

"Oh."   It would take some getting use to, he decided; this mixing of business and pleasure.  His brain simply couldn't keep up.

"… The meeting…?"  His lover prompted helpfully.

"Right." Laro shook himself and tried to get back in an appropriately military frame of mind.  It didn't help that in reality he wanted to do nothing more than start dancing for joy.

*****

***** 

Next time. Battle battle battle… finally. Jeez Kuja, pick it up a little, will ya?  --Lunar


	22. They Cannot Stand Their Ground

Feather Flight: ** They Cannot Stand Their Ground (part 22)**

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

***** 

***** 

Notes:  Italics for radio dialog at times.

***** 

After that first day of almost surreal silence from the enemy army, the battle resumed full force.  Laro found himself deeply grateful for the arrival of his old friend's troops /and/ the steady presence of his lover at his side as the mayhem rolled from dawn to well past dusk again and again. The aliens even dare to test their perimeters at night, clattering and chirping in the darkness in ways they never had before.  

Two days, three days, the fourth dawned as hot and frantic as the others. It was all Ibat and he could do to keep the army on the hill. The Selwe attacked as if obsessed, forgoing any of their new 'tactics' in favor of simply pressing ahead in as a never-ending horde to be beaten back wave by wave.  Moving along the trail cut high in the hillside, he watched his men grimly pushing the insects away, fighting amidst virtual walls of black shells from the fallen, a macabre sort of palisade made from their enemy's component parts and any unfortunate human bodies that could not be pulled from the field. After four days of the brutal siege, he couldn't blame them for looking a little glassy-eyed from shock.  He just hoped that they could keep exhaustion from causing any serious accidents. Most of the soldiers were seasoned enough to know to take their opportunities for rest seriously, the younger ones were rapidly learning.  

The trail split, dipping downwards towards the battle lines. Laro caught one of his commanders by the shoulder as he met up with the man, leaning close to hear the shouted greeting over the loud thrum of the laser cannons cutting through the air over head and down into the valley below. They left large charred swaths of destruction through the main mass of the drone-army, but the gaps filled in all too soon. 

For some reason, after the first day's skirmishes the pesky stingers had been strangely absent from the air. The flying aliens whom were usually the cannon's principle prey were all but invisible, making the general wonder just where they had flitted off to.  The idea of a mass contingent of the wasp-like creatures cutting off his supply line wasn't a pleasant one. Realizing he had been too distracted by the thought to catch what his officers were saying, he shook his head.

"Repeat that? I'm sorry."

"The digger sir! The one we spotted two weeks ago and then lost…"

"Yeah? What about it?"

"It's back. The hill-top just radioed it in, we can't see it from here but Ibat-kai has confirmed the sighting… It seems to be making its move."

"Where?" Laro looked past the men to the line just below. Wading through the trundling mass of drones was an assault-monster, and then another, and another. He swore slightly as he watched the giant spiders daintily pick their way over the smaller aliens.  Moving with lethal beauty, they followed one another in single file, a train of them stretching well back into the valley. The dark man lost count after the seventh one, not really caring how many more of them there were. Handling that many of the long legged insects would take a miracle, and time. He didn't have the men to spare to go hunting down a millipede the size of a freight train. 

"Oh shit. How many /are/ there…?"  His captain breathed in alarm before moving to alert his squad. Laro waved the others to do the same, grabbing for his radio as he moved to join them.  

"General Gerrick, I have a job for you…"

"We can't aim the cannons low enough to clip them, if that's what you're going to ask." 

The sour tone came across despite the hissing hash of noise caused by the man's proximity to the large machines. At first he had found his new subordinate's borderline-rudeness to be jarring, but he had to admit that at least the man's attitude didn't destabilize under pressure. On duty or not, he was equally sharp tongued. The only times Gerrick even pretended to be enjoying himself were when verbally sparing with Kuja, which he couldn't understand at all. The two of them snipped each other like long lost siblings when they got the chance. 

 Laro didn't pretend to understand the soldier, he simply pointed him in the right direction and let him do his job.  The young general /did/ know his work, and once he got to it there was nothing to fault him for. Under his command the cannons had been operating with well-oiled precision, lending a hand with the ground fighting now that the skies were relatively clear instead of sitting idly by as the crews awaited orders. Whatever the soldier's problem was with /him/ it didn't spill over into his relationship with his men. 

// He likes Ibat just fine… so why is he always so irritating when it's /me/… // He composed himself before telling the younger officer what he wanted. 

"Can you see the digger from where you are?"

_"/I/ can't. I'm on #1 right now… the crew on #2 say they can.  I'm actually going over now to take a look…"_

"See if you can get a clear shot at it. It sounds as though the thing is going to try to make a charge at the camp."

_"Well shit."_ The impolitic reply was no less than what he expected from Gerrick. He heard nothing but static for a long moment, guessing that the officer needed both hands to quickly navigate the narrow staircases down the sides of the big guns. The radio crackled to life again as Laro turned to measure the progress of his own foes. _"I see it. Big fucker. Bad angle for us, but I'll see what we can do to slow it down. I don't think Ibat can shift his force in time to get in its way, he looks pretty pinned. How are you doing?"___

"Up to my eyeballs in spiders, and you know it." He growled back. "Just kill that thing before it tears up the hilltop!"

_"Understood."_

Hooking his radio back on his belt, the general spun his spear slowly to loosen his arms up for the fight. The first of the spindly Assaults was picking its way over the mass of shattered carcasses and into the clear space his troops had evacuated for its arrival.  One of its pole-like legs got caught on a particularly steep pile and the alien jerked free, sending the massive bits of shell cascading down onto the rapidly retreating men. 

One of the officers closest to the beast gave the order and teams of soldiers with grappling hooks and chains proceeded to try and bring it down before the next one could interfere.  Laro dodged around one of the gangs of men playing a deadly game of tug-of-war with the alien in order to get in position as the next insect picked its way over the bits of broken shell. With luck he'd get a nice clean throw in while it was distracted.   There was no time to worry about the digger, about Ibat, or about Kuja still safely ensconced in camp.  A 'master strategist' wasn't top on his list of useful things during this kind of free-for-all. What he wanted more than anything was a third army to fill in the gap between his men and Ibat's.

***** 

Clay worried that he was starting to go seriously hoarse as he shouted a new stream of orders to the crews of both of the armored lasers for the fourth day in a row. The view from the top of the hill was excellent, giving his men the chance to pick and choose their targets.  He grimly acknowledged that so far it hadn't really mattered. Enemies were so thick on the ground that so long as the pointed the guns at anything past the make-shift perimeter, they were guaranteed to hit /something/ worth while. 

He stared at the digger as it trundled up the side of the hill. Nothing as simple as some men with grenade launchers or landmines was going to be enough to slow the monster down. Now that it had pulled the majority of its armored body free of the soil of the valley floor and was climbing the rock towards camp, it would run over or through anything that stood in its path.  He cursed softly, willing the distant men to get out of the way. 

// The angle couldn't be any worse. We only have a few degrees worth of pan at this range or we'll torch our own tents in trying to target it. //

All things considered, he would do it too; if there was no other choice. Turning to catch one of his officer's attention he gave the man the unpleasant task of spreading the order to evacuate the south side of the compound in case of that particular eventuality.  It struck him as a little funny to realize that Laro's tent was likely going to be one of the first to go. He was certain he'd get flayed by a particular mage later over it.  Thinking about Kuja made him peer down into the camp again, knowing that the silver-haired courtier had been watching the battle from one of the lower lookout positions.  If the man didn't have the good sense to move when obviously in the line of danger, he deserved what he had coming. 

//  He's probably already moved… no sense worrying… There's still time after all… // 

"Cannon #2 in position, sir."

"Well, fire already." He scolded mildly, "No sense waiting until it starts eating the tents."

"Yes sir!"  

Turning back to his post the man peered into the range-finder and pressed the trigger to start the sweep, electric green light spilled across the air and scorched along the segmented body.  Reflective as polished steel the blast scattered on impact, causing a minor mayhem of smaller side beams, luckily few of them as dangerous as the initial blast. The shell directly beneath the impact blackened and cracked a little, but it was only one or two segments out of several hundred, it barely qualified as a nuisance.

"Cannon #1 adjusting for…" The young soldier looked up mid report, and went pale. Clay looked over his shoulder and felt his face do much the same. A black cloud of wings was erupting out of the valley, Stingers hurling themselves aloft in a swarm of unheard of proportion and heading directly for the laser cannons. 

"Get #1 re-aligned, Now." He was moving even before he finished the thought, all but jumping off the top platform to hurry his decent back to ground level. He brought the radio up to his lips to state the obvious. "Crew #2, forget the digger. Swing around seventy-two degrees and prepare for aerial bombardment, I think they're coming for /us/."  

Grabbing the off-duty team where they waited to relieve the men at the controls, he pointed at the third cannon, kept carefully under wraps. "Get that thing up and running, we're going to need it."

"Yes sir."  The thrum of thousands of wings was enough to have them moving at top speed; hastily stripping the canvas back and priming the engines that would make the spare gun come to life. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Gerrick caught a glimpse of a smooth black ridge breaking through the retaining wall.  He swore and lifted his radio one more time.

"Ibat-kai. The cannons are under attack, I repeat, the cannons are under aerial attack. We cannot assist with the digger or any further ground targets, please adjust your line accordingly."

_"Understood, leave it to me… I'll figure something out." _The rusty voice came across as calm and unhurried as ever, despite the unpleasant news. General Ibat was a man who knew how to take things in stride. _"Just guard the guns well, boy. Dean Finlay will never let us hear the end of it if we scratch the paint on those things…" _

"Yessir." 

Cursing his luck, he watched as they sky above grew dark and thick with bodies, aliens preparing to throw themselves physically at the source of their previous days' carnage. 

***** 

Laro didn't have time to do more than listen as the two other generals dealt with the change of situation.  There was nothing he could do about the swarm, just like everything else, he'd have to leave it to fate.  Cursing his enemies softly, he realized that at this point his army would probably need a miracle just to have someplace to go home to by nightfall.

Another giant spider collapsed under the concentrated effort of two teams of soldiers grappling it to the ground, but not with out cost. He winced as an unfortunate man was caught by the final flailing of the long legs and landed with a crunch a long way down the hill.  Several other men with hatchets went to work to see that the beast was done for good. Another of the spindly aliens had escaped its attackers and was briskly attempting to scale the rocky slope, sweeping the scattered support personnel and equipment aside with its legs as it moved. The dark general growled at its presumption, yanking his weapon free of a fallen drone while simultaneously scooping up a spare grapple and chain.  

A short sprint and a lucky throw had the barbed metal hooking firmly along the creature's leg. Another toss had the free end of the chain twining around a second limb.  The alien paused, thrown off its pace by the handicap.  It was enough to buy his soldiers time to come in and assist, finishing what their general had started. 

Laro looked around, and seeing that his men seemed able to hold their own, jogged briskly up the hill.  He could just barely see the tail end of the massive black digger as it slid past the first tents. It was even bigger than he remembered. The cannons were busy overhead, fighting back the swirling shapes of hundreds upon hundreds of suicidal stingers. He counted not two but three blasts, and grimaced realizing that even with the spare cannon hard at work they might still be over run.

// If the bugs can kill the crews, the guns will be just so much dead weight… They'll strip the shards out of them in no time and leave us with nothing but the scraps of metal… //

Then again, all the flying aliens had to do was distract the cannons long enough for the digger to march up and tear them apart.  It wasn't a happy alternative.  There was no way they could just let the juggernaut run free in the center of things. If they did they might as well up stakes and retreat since it would leave nothing worth calling a base.  Swearing, he motioned to one of his officers to take over, and loped back towards camp.  He had taken one of the monstrous millipedes down alone once, he was certain he could remember how to do it again.  With Kuja somewhere in its path, possibly not even aware of the danger, he couldn't simply stand by and watch.  Worried, he hoped his wily partner was smart enough to stay out of the creature's way.

***** 

Watching Ibat's army move briskly through the necessary transitions to adapt to the horde of drones coming up the hill was frankly a delight.  The genome could appreciate the smooth and practiced leadership of the company commanders as they followed their orders, supplying men where they were needed, never letting one group get too far ahead or behind the others.  They even employed some obviously home-grown techniques, deliberately allowing pockets of the insects to 'break through' the front lines in order to trap them in a little personalized killing field. He had read about such things in Terra's old wars and had read about them in the capitol, but had never thought to see it in person. It was a rare treat.

The officers standing at his side had their eyes everywhere, rattling off trouble spots to each other and through their radios, making sure the generals' staffs were aware of what was waiting for them around corners and further out into the field. It looked to be another grueling-long day.  Kuja shook his head in awe at the Selwe's stamina, wondering if he had over estimated the Queen's attachment to her young, or under estimated her ability to produce more of them on demand. Wracking his brain for what he remembered of other insect colonies he realized he may have made a bad mistake.

// These may not be her young after all… not in an exact sense… every type of colony has those members whom are valued… and those that are simply expendable servants to the cause… There may be an entirely different sort of Selwe that is tucked safe from harm somewhere else… or aboard ship… // 

He eyed the black tide of drones with a little alarm. 

// If these things are simply slaves… then… the only thing holding her back from creating an infinite number of them is her own stamina at egg laying, and the resources at her disposal… //

"What the hell is… oh no… we don't need this right now…"

"What?" 

Turning to see what had gotten his escort so uncharacteristically upset, he turned and hissed in amazement.  An alien which looked like nothing so much as a moving swath of highway was emerging from the rear of the army.  At first he thought it was a massive black earthworm, then he saw the millions of tiny legs that marched the beast forwards and knew the name for what he was seeing.  "… So that's a digger…"

It seemed impossible to correlate the enormous bulk of the monster to the still substantial but more human-sized mass of a standard drone or stinger.  He wondered how long they took to get that big, and if they all came from similar sized eggs. 

"Yes Mr.Kuja… and it seems its here on business…"  

The digger seemed to grow longer and longer without end.  Watching the way the sandy floor of the valley shifted with every segment that emerged, Kuja began to understand the name they gave the beast was literal. It was emerging from a sort of underground burrow. 

// It's almost as large as Leviathan… a sort of insectile equivalent. // The thought made him chuckle. 

// Who needs to worship gods when you can just make your own to order? // 

The fact that he too was a byproduct of that sort of philosophy only added a sort of irony to it all.  Watching the monster creep up the hill, he got a sense for its single-mindedness and strength. The first human soldiers wisely chose to get out of its path, falling back to try long-range weapons as it approached the wall of bodies around the edge of the encampment.  Not bothering to see if his companions were watching as well, the genome wondered aloud. "What are its weaknesses?"

"Pretty much the same as all the others, if on a larger scale." The lieutenant replied softly, "Heat, cold, anything that can pierce its segments… Ibat has a crew trained up just for them that have these hollow tipped harpoons full of dynamite that you plant then detonate… That works like a charm if you have anyone who wants to get in close enough to use one… The eye-things on the front of it are also vulnerable… but in general you just hack it to bits, and hope it dies."

"Are there very many of them?"

"I don't think so… Ibat's army sort of undertook a single-handed extermination campaign a bout seven years ago when he stumbled by accident on where the Selwe seemed to be raising'em. Takes a looooong time to feed something enough to get that big, you know? Don't think the bugs have had the energy to make any new ones lately. Judging by the size this fellow is probably as old as the war… good thirty years of growth…"

"It's a titan."  Kuja readily agreed. "… What are we going to do?"

"Hope to hell one of the armies can come to meet it before it pays you a personal call, sir. But the odds don't look too good."  Worried, the younger man rattled off the creature's new vector into his radio only to get bad news back. "… shit. Both armies are pretty well pinned… This could get really bad."

"What? There's no one coming to deal with… /that/?!"  Amusement turning to horror, the pale haired man stared at the slowly approaching millipede, its path unobstructed as it trundled towards camp. "It'll gut the compound!"

"Yeah."  The officer agreed, looking even more worried than before.  His radio crackled again, Gerrick's terse reply giving them a moment of hope.  The cannons had to be able to scratch the beast. Kuja watched them with sharp interest, wanting to see his handiwork tested against a more substantial target than the fragile fliers.  The first of the turrets got off one good shot, catching the monster broad-side but seemed to do little more than stun it a moment. It resumed its trundling pace, smoking a little from the damaged section, but otherwise unhindered. A second blast never came, the gunners apparently seeing a new threat over the edge of the hill that they could not.  

"Oh shit. They've found the swarm…" His escort revealed after listening to another burst of frantic jabber from his ear-piece. "…We're to evacuate anything in the digger's path and hold tight until Ibat gets here…"

"When will that be?!"

The man looked scared. "We don't know. As soon as he can break free of the drones."

"That could take too long." The genome countered angrily. "And besides…"  

He didn't get to finish his train of thought, frozen in dismay as a dark cloud of flying aliens spilled over the hillside like a storm, not all of them stopping to clump around the desperately firing cannons.  At least half of the buzzing cloud was sweeping straight for the center of camp.  "Oh lord… We're in trouble."

The officers didn't have to be told twice. There were no defensive weapons capable of beating back a swarm that size in their rickety tower so they opted for retreat.  Kuja followed the men down, scrambling down the last of the steps just as the stingers arrived to swamp the camp. People on the ground stopped whatever they were doing to defend themselves, small arms, spears, even rocks were employed as the troops still in camp did their best to defend their home.  

Doing what he could, the mage and his escort claimed a clear area between several of the command tents as he pulled in his waiting powers to give the insects a proper demonstration of his abilities. After three days of watching as others did for him, it was quietly satisfying to be able to make himself useful.  Shielding the men in his immediate reach was the first thing. The second was to call up a whirlwind to clear the air. At the mercy of their wings, the fragile looking fliers were caught and tossed in all directions by the random gales, many ending their trip smashed into the ground where the army could finish them.  He repeated the process with the next group that came sweeping down on them, and the next, becoming a rallying point for the rest of the soldiers who were unable to reach the bugs so long as they were airborne.   

Stranger yet, Kuja blinked and realized that he was a rallying point for the insects as well. The swarm had all but given up on attacking the rest of the compound, seeming to be attracted by his bursts of magic. It made things more convenient since they were tightly packed in the air above, and therefore even more vulnerable than usual to his large-scale magics.  Wind was an easy element to manipulate and he was pleased with his results given how little he had to spend per spell. The constant exertion however was starting to take its toll and he worried how much longer he could continue with out a rest.

// Damn blood… damn anemia… damned Garland and his half-assed 'solutions'… why couldn't he just have me keel over and be done with it. Why bother with something so crippling as this, and yet not actually fatal? //

It occurred to him that Garland had probably planned on Zidane taking care of the 'prototype' problem as soon as the little git had come into his own.  It was another reason to pity the man his lack of foresight. Thanks to his 'wholesome' upbringing on Gaia, Zidane probably couldn't kill so much as a fly without moralizing over it at some level. Doing away with a failed experimental Genome had already proven more than the boy was capable of. 

// Him and his stupid 'we're brothers…' idea… We were grown in test-tubes! There is no family connection there! Just because we're almost identical genetically doesn't mean anything!  It's just how things are… If we happen to feel the same about certain things, it's just because we're wired similarly, that's all… //

Thinking of Zidane always made him think of Mikoto too. She was the third variation on their genetic theme that their 'father' created. Given intellect but no power, he wondered if she ever felt as jealous as he did over the choices made for her before her birth.  He wondered if she was built with a 'limiter' as well. The idea made him sick. She may have been a cold, calculating woman, but that was only because that was how she had been told to be.  She certainly didn't deserve to die gasping for breath on an alien world as her own body betrayed her.  

Mikoto had to have survived. 

Zidane would have seen to that.  She was his 'sister' after all.  Maybe he could save her from Garland a second time, but that would imply that he had far more cleverness than he did.  

Kuja raised his hands again, feeling his muscles shaking with the effort, and went to target his next spell only to find that there was nothing to target. The stingers which had been clogging the air with their noise and wings were suddenly zooming away, moving out of range as fast as they could.  He blinked at their retreat, wondering why.

It was only when it grew quiet, his small group of defenders crouching and listening in alarm, that he too felt the shiver of the rocky soil beneath his feet.  In all the excitement of the blitzkrieg, they had forgotten that another enemy was almost upon them.  

Rising up like a massive python, or really, like a dirt-burrowing Leviathan, the digger lifted the front half of its body high into the air over the camp, holding the pose a moment before deliberately relaxing, crashing down on top of tents, vehicles and people alike with a terrific sound.  The noise its destruction made was intense, but the beast itself seemed unharmed by it. Legs moving again, it crawled forwards another few yards only to 'stand' a second time.  The shadow cast when it lifted itself into the air fell across Kuja and his team. He craned his head back, guessing that the monster's head had to be easily seventy feet up. One of the men prayed for a miracle.  

// It'll flatten us like… well… bugs… //  He smirked at his unimaginative vocabulary, looking up at the titan swayed in the air.   The armored plates covering the digger's underbelly seemed a little less well defined then the ones along its back. He wondered if he couldn't some how use this to his advantage.

Instead of crushing them immediately, the monster curled forwards, not unlike a serpent, peering down with its awful face and row upon row of unblinking eyes.  Kuja froze, knowing somehow that it was looking for him. Yet again he wondered if each of the insects fighting were capable of sharing sensations with their Queen directly, if it was /her/ peering out of the giant's multi-faceted eyes.  

// Probably should have been a little more polite… //

Not able to look away, he reached out and tapped the shoulder of his escort. 

"… Run… Run now. It's me… the things are attracted to my magic… it probably won't even notice you're gone."

"But…" The lieutenant gave him a worried look, even as he shooed his subordinates ahead of him. "… I can't leave you here, I have orders to keep you safe!"

"… I'll be fine. I just don't want you lot getting hurt by standing too close… get back and give me some room to work…"

// Manufactured-gods indeed… come my lady… let us see which of us is stronger… can I crush you before you crush me? //

The beast reared back again, as if responding to his thought. Its cry was a whistling roar as it used its own body as a sort of monstrous whip, arching back to earth to flatten anything beneath.  It just so happened that the only thing in its path this time was a single small mage.  Kuja smiled against the rushing wind of its approach, egging it onwards even as he readied his spell. 

There would be only one chance to get it right, calculations danced in the back of his head. Energy knit and spun itself down his arms, along his fingers, gathering in the space between his palms, spinning brighter and brighter until it was like a tiny star waiting to be released.  Completely in the falling digger's shadow now, he cast the ball of light upwards towards his foe, savagely naming it as he did so.

"**Flare**."

A second sun burned brightly in the center of camp, expanding with fiery abandon to envelope the top half of the digger and rapidly burn its way through.  The beast screamed again, unable to stop its decent or the fact that it was now cleanly blown into two halves by the sudden attack.  The top sixteen feet, including the dying head, landed amidst some abandoned tents, showering everything around it in a sticky gobs of smoldering goo as it went.  The rest of the enormous body bent the opposite direction with the force of the blast, actually lifted and rolled back to the edge of the camp and coming to rest; leaking and steaming at the perimeter. The smell of burning chitin and sulfurous-sweet innards filled the air with nauseating intensity.

Kuja stood blinking in stunned amazement as the disgusting aftermath liberally rained over him and everything else in sight.  Looking down at his slime-covered hands as they shook with exhaustion, he would have cursed long and loudly if he had any strength left at all. 

"… Yuck…" He whispered to himself.

***** 

Everything was bedlam. Laro kept his head down, trying to avoid attracting any particular attention from the frantically swarming stingers. The tail end of the dusty black digger was in sight, but where the head was he couldn't tell. Somewhere in the middle of his poor camp, that much was certain.  Swearing, he tried to avoid a falling carcass only to slip on the loose gravel and get a mouthful of dust.  It wasn't the only one, a second stinger crashed in his path as he picked himself up and ran.  Glancing at it as he went, he was surprised to see that it wasn't charred.

// Mid-air collision? God knows they're not behaving right… like… a frenzy almost… //

There were two distinct clouds of insects overhead. The first swarm continued to torment the cannons. Counting green flares, he hissed at how one cannon seemed dead already. His radio was a continuous hiss of babble, the best that he could make out was that Gerrick was still alive, and sounding pissed as hell. He wished the young man luck, knowing he'd have ample opportunities to vent his anger on living targets. The second cloud of winged insects was not as easy to explain.  The aliens were zipping towards the center of camp in growing numbers, drawn to it like moths to a flame. The center of the cloud however seemed even more insane than the rest. Stingers flailed in the air as if completely out of control, occasionally hurled by some unseen force out of the swarm altogether. Another of the aliens spun out of control, tumbling through the air and into a tent. The strangely twisting column of air reminded him of a vortex, but he had no idea what could cause it.

// Maybe that many in such a small location… has caused a problem with the wind…? That makes no sense… //

Ducking between tents, he paused to behead a broken-winged but still violent insect before it could get behind another struggling soldier. "Hey! What's going on?"

"Hell if I know… The damn things have gone mad."  The frazzled man picked up a spare weapon, jogging ahead of him. "We're gathering in the southern square by the watch tower… they seem to be lining up for the slaughter…"

"That's where the digger is headed, you idiot…"  Running after him, Laro could only wonder what in the world was going on. His escort had stopped abruptly, met by a group of men running the other direction. 

"Digger!"  The group commander shouted the obvious at him. Right behind the man, a black tower of segments and hundreds of legs slowly bent into the air. 

"Get the hell over here before it drops!" He got their attention, and they smartly resumed their sprint, getting out of the monster's shadow. It was enormous, as old as any he had ever seen. The digger must have been a grandfather among its kind.  It crashed to earth like a whale breaching, sending up a massive gust of dust and splinters and it flattened a wide swath of tents. The general winced, hoping that the area was as evacuated as it seemed. He wasn't looking forward to the death-counts that would be coming in later that night. "… damn it, this has to stop…"  

As if obedient to his wishes, the swarm overhead seemed to thin abruptly, not disappearing, but pulling up into higher air, regrouping. He was torn between watching them to see what they were up to, and wondering what the digger would do next. The huge millipede was turning, bending its tubular body in a new direction, heading towards the distant watchtower. He blinked, remembering that was where the men said they were grouping up.  There was nothing to do but follow, catching up with the massive bulk and running along side.  The creature's head was still some distance away.  

A wide shadow flowed over him, obscuring a dip in the path, causing him to stumble and fall. Rolling over, he looked up and felt a chill down the length of his spine.  

// … Hover-plate… //

The alien technology could only mean one thing. He tried to get up but found he couldn't, frozen with instinctive terror.  Through the dust he could barely make out the retreating form of a heart-shaped head atop a delicate looking multi-segmented body, the largest of the aliens riding the metal platform. Laro felt the sweat forming, making him even colder, and closed his eyes to concentrate on his breathing. Precious seconds passed before he could coordinate his muscles, forcing himself to his feet, eyes still following the floating sled as it hung in the air ahead. Surrounded as it was by a thick mass of stingers, he wondered if he was the only one to notice it.  The digger's tail end slipped past him, the silence left in its wake enough to startle him and bring him back to the task at hand.

// The mentor is the one steering the beast… and the hordes… no wonder things are all coming apart… they're working in unison to tack down the armies while they destroy everything else… //

More angry than afraid, he picked up his spear and started to run again.  He had barely caught up with the tail again when the monstrous digger abruptly halted, rising up, and then pausing. He didn't have long to speculate on the weird behavior before it moved again, rising up higher, preparing for another destructive smash. Laro winced as it began to curl downwards, lashing the ground. He wasn't expecting the sudden burst of painfully bright light that ripped upwards to meet the beast.  

Squinting against the yellow-red explosion, he watched in silent awe as the segmented alien was /lifted/, blown back, and then impossibly, blown /through/.  The black flesh and armor seemed to dissolve midair. A hot wind bent the tents back, making them flap violently on their tethers, almost lifting him off his feet. He was bathed in fiery heat and the smell of burning monster.  He grabbed onto a convenient tarp rope for balance, getting his face forwards into the wind just long enough to watch the top half of the monster fall to earth with a dead-sounding 'thud.'  The rest of it, still propelled through the air seemed to roll back on itself, crashing back towards where it had come from. The smell was incredibly foul, as was the black ash falling all around him on the dying breeze.

// … But we don't have any weapons that can do that… aside from the cannons… unless Ibat or Gerrick were keeping something in reserve… //

He scrubbed his face, something about 'in reserve' tickling his tired memory. Laro ran forwards, gladly using the shattered sort of road that the digger had carved through his camp. // … damn… //  He glanced up, noting the hover-plate was still there… 

// Bet that was a surprise… yeah? We're not dead yet, not by a long shot… But why aren't they firing again…? Unless they haven't seen it yet? Shit. //

Fumbling for his radio even as he moved, he brought it to his lips. "South-side, report! This is Nazer-kai."

There was nothing but the hiss of static for a long moment but then random chatter came back, several officers apparently talking over each other to respond. He cursed, waiting for them to be more coherent. They quickly sorted themselves out into a quick echo, and waiting for silence, he found the breath for his news. "Overhead. Plate. Shoot IT."

_"… Um… I don't think we can sir."_

"Why the hell not! You just took out the digger, this should be cake!"

"… We didn't…"  Another hiss of static heralded what he was afraid of. Hardly without weapons, the hover-plate turned in the air and lobbed a small bomb down at the camp. The officer on the other end of the radio still had his thumb on the switch, the sounds of random chaos coming through despite the explosion's interference. Laro found the energy to run faster. "… oh shit this isn't good…"

Before he could tear into the man for his obvious lack of discipline they were interrupted again, this time by a bolt of green tearing through the air overhead. Looking over his shoulder, he almost laughed out loud, counting not two, but three cannons sweeping his direction, sweeping the air clear of everything in their way.  The top of the bluff surrounding the guns seemed blanketed in black. He couldn't even imagine how many aliens had died in the unsuccessful assault. 

_"Cannon #1 back on line, Nazer-kai. Our apologies for the delay. Aerial support commencing. We got a direct hit on the hover-plate, but what the hell is going on down there? Who took out the digger?"_

If he had thought for a moment that Gerrick would have appreciated the gesture, he would have kissed the man. The young officer still sounded seriously pissed. "Welcome back general, good work. I'm on my way to investigate."

_"I've got visual on the south-side…"_ The sour man's voice was interrupted by another's, the company commander he had been talking to a moment ago. 

_"General Nazer, you're needed immediately on the south-side…"_

"The Mentor. I know." He picked up his pace again, cursing the size of his installation.  

His radio hissed in his fist, the officer's voice coming across as scared despite the interference. _"No sir. It's Mr. Kuja, sir.  He's in a bad way, and is asking for you."_

"What?!"  Laro almost dropped the radio in surprise. His tired brain made the connections almost in time with his footfalls, the erratic nature of the stingers, the digger's sudden destruction, the Mentor's obvious interest.

// … that was magic… Real magic… //

// … Masa… //

_"Fuck. That silver-haired freak was in the middle of the blast, wasn't he…?" _

He didn't have the breath to scold Gerrick. It was suddenly vital that he get there, now. Charging past a tent he hurdled over a shattered jeep and barely kept his footing as he landed. The stingers still in the air were swarming en masse to where the hover-plate had collapsed. Shielding their leader with their bodies as it clumsily took to the air.  Laro blinked, remembering that the elite aliens did have wings after all, even if they seldom seemed to use them. The creature certainly wasn't as coordinated with them as its protectors, but still able enough to dodge the sweep of the lasers and back out into the valley. He cursed it as it escaped. 

_"It's like a total retreat has been called. What happened? Someone swat their 'general' or something?" _

 Leaving it up to someone else to explain what had happened to Ibat, he just concentrated on getting over the remaining yards of debris. 

_"We seem to have lost our mage in exchange for a digger and some random alien-tech. Not exactly a fair deal if you ask me."_  Gerrick summed things up nicely. _"I'm heading over, I'll pick up Mr.Kuja's medic on the way."_

Never one to be thrown by bad news, Ibat's voice was calmly composed. _"I'll take care of the front… Where the hell is Nazer?"_

_"Competing to be the world's fastest man."_  The younger man answered dryly. _"See if you can't add the digger's carcass to the fortifications. It's big enough. I need both hands to drive, I'm out."_

_"Rodger."___

// At least they're nice enough not to gossip about my love-life on the radio… // He didn't spare the energy for politeness as he plowed through the outer groups of soldiers standing around. Most of them seemed to be studying the charred digger's head with a sort of dead-eyed acceptance. The rest were more irritating, circling in a large group the one place he absolutely wanted to be. "Get the fuck out of my way!"

Startled, the group parted, men scrambling to clear a path for their commander. He ignored the stares, knowing that if even half of what he was feeling was reflected in his face he must look unusual at the least.  At the center was a precious amount of clear space, the soldiers obviously trying to give one in particular among the wounded some room. Two officers knelt on either side of a cinder-encrusted man, one quickly cutting his jacket to pieces and offering it to the other as make shift bandages.  Well singed and bleeding from a number of ugly looking gashes on his arms and chest, Kuja panted in pain as he was being bound tight. 

// … thank god he's alive… //

Crouching down, he carefully swept the silver hair out of the way before kneeling next to the battered mage's head. The blue eyes were closed, his entire focus seeming to be turned inwards. "… Masa?"

"… Laro…"  The word came out with a fair portion of blood, adding to the fluid already staining his chin. He swallowed his alarm, fumbling inside his jacket for his handkerchief, amazed that it was still clean, considering the mayhem since breakfast.  

"Someone give me a canteen."  The general didn't even bother to look up at his audience, holding out his hand until someone pressed a bottle into it. Unscrewing it, he soaked the small cloth before gently wiping his lover's face clean. "… god Masa, I told you to stay safe…"

"Where's… safe?" Dazed, seeming to have a hard time even focusing on him, the solver-haired man responded sluggishly.  The officers finished on his left arm, cursing softly as they set the bandaged limb down only to start cutting away the tattered shirt. "… digger died… what happened?"

"A bomb, the Mentor was right over you… Why didn't you zap it, idiot?"  He whispered, unwilling to let go of the delicate chin even with his work complete. The blood wetting the slender man's lips with every murmured word frightened him more than the sight of the Mentor had.   Looking away, he concentrated instead on the two men playing field-medic. They were accepting vaguely clean articles of clothing from the crowd, pressing it against the freely bleeding gouges in the mage's chest to try and slow it down.

Kuja simply hissed at the treatment, pain clearly showing in his wide eyes.  It seemed to shake the worst of his disorientation off however. More aware, if still not entirely coherent, his lover tried to fit his words around his ragged breaths. "… couldn't. Tired."

"… You're tired?" The head shook, giving him an almost imperceptible negation. "… you /were/ tired?" 

He blinked, wishing he had thought to ask more questions about how magic worked when they had had the time. A week after the pale scholar had returned to him and set his camp on its ear by causing a small miracle among the wounded, and he still had no idea exactly how the man did what he did. Obviously it had to exhaust him in some way, apparently more than he had thought. Somewhere behind him a jeep's horn bleated, alerting spectators to get out of its way.  A human voice was soon doing much the same. 

"Oi. What are you all standing around for? Get to your duties! We have six hours until sunset, and then twelve hours until dawn. There isn't a minute to spare! If you're not a medic, get out of here and let them work!"

"Kuja!"  Anne's voice cut through the grumbling, her smaller body able to wedge through the confused bystanders to find her way to his side. She didn't pause, unwrapping a strange bundle she had clutched to her chest to reveal a familiar lump of cloudy crystal. "Mr.Kuja. I brought the shard."

"… Shard…?"  Confused, the pale man tilted his head to look at her and then down at the stone she was positioning under his fingers. Laro looked at the alien crystal for the first time in days wondering what the connection was.  Whatever the doctor was hoping for, it didn't seem to be happening. 

"Mr.Kuja, please… draw from the shard! Heal yourself!"

"… heal…"  He frowned, seeming to try and gather his thoughts with little success. 

Gerrick seemed to appear out of nowhere, leaning over where the pretty medic sat in despair to take in the scene. "Shit. How much blood has he lost?"

"He's not stopping." The older of the two officers now binding the mage's leg looked up, expression anxious. "We've applied pressure, but he's bleeding right through the bandages… It's not slowing at all."

"He can't. Magic is the only thing that will help…"  She waved the two men off, and grabbed the cat-man by the shoulders, shaking him gently. "Kuja! Snap out of it!"

"… tired."  

Laro stared down at the cat-man, realizing that he had gone beyond pale and was now almost grey.  He didn't know what exactly was going on, but the idea that the man was bleeding to death before his eyes was something he could readily understand. "Why can't he stop bleeding?"

"He didn't tell you?"  The younger general gave him an odd look, and then glared down at Masa's clouded eyes. "Idiot."

"… Didn't tell me /what/?!"  Wanting to strangle the insufferable officer, the dark man grimaced. The pale eyes refused to meet his, staring intently downwards instead "… Gerrick!"

"Bastard, don't you dare give up so easily."  Growling, Gerrick pulled the medic out of the way, moving faster than Laro could block. He administered a sharp slap across the mage's stunned face, causing another drip of blood from his stunned lips. "Heal yourself, mage, you haven't finished your work yet." 

It took a special sort of sadist to strike at a man already dying.  He didn't even bother to verbally voice his displeasure with the blunt officer, lunging for the man's throat instead.  For a moment he almost succeeded, his fingers closed over the liberally grime-coated neck, forcing the man off balance and backwards. Somehow his fellow general managed to defend however, catching his wrists and rolling them to avoid an abrupt death and leaving them wrestling like brawlers on the scorched ground. 

"Nazer-kai… please…"  Physically stronger,  he was quickly able to short circuit the smaller man's attempts to escape, batting the hands aside and driving his fist down into his face. 

"My… work."  Kuja's voice was faint. He looked back at his lover, startled to see he was struggling to move, his fingers tightening against the shard with a purpose. "… We haven't won yet."

"Kuja?" Laro held off hitting his captive again, wondering what Masa meant by the comment.

"No, Mr. Kuja. Not by a long shot."  Wiping the blood from his chin, Gerrick agreed with the pale man's whisper. "So you can't die yet."

"Yes." Flickers of light seemed to flow out of the stone, up the cat-man's arm, as his lips moved silently. This time his eyes were distant in a preoccupied way. Laro could only breathe a sigh of relief when the light suddenly grew brighter, rings of gold and green sparks blooming to life around the mage's body. They hung in the air a moment before fading, but they left behind a man who breathed much easier than he had before. "…Anne, if you could get the bandages…"

"Oh. Right. Yes."  She scrambled to aid him.

Gerrick crab-walked backwards until he was out of the dark haired general's reach and then staggered to his feet, gingerly rubbing his jaw. "If you're feeling better, be so kind as to tell your lover to stop hitting me."

"Down, Laro…" The scolding had no real energy behind it. Helped upright, Kuja picked at the bandages on one arm even as his medic worked on the others. The skin under the bloodstained fabric was whole and unblemished.  The mage was the only one not fascinated by the marvel, studying the wet fabric in his hand instead before restlessly dropping it. "I feel like shit."

"No wonder… considering how much blood you've lost… do you think you can stand?"

"… possibly." Letting the dark man gently pull him up, the mage sighed at the tattered condition of his robe. "… Lend me your coat?"

"What? Oh. Of course."  He hastily unbuckled his armor and bracers to strip of the long garment and drape it around his lover's slim shoulders. It wasn't exactly as stylish as the delicate scholar was usually dressed, but it concealed the singed looking tail that twitched restlessly beneath the remains of his robe. The general couldn't help but notice that neither of the other two had batted an eye at the unusual appendage. It left him with another question he wanted answered.  They would have to wait. It seemed that the only thing keeping Masa upright was his hand on the mage's arm.

Glancing back at the truck, wasn't surprised when the younger general followed his train of thought. "Grab him before he collapses? I'll drive three of you over to what's left of west-side before getting back to the cannons."

The offer sounded practical enough.  He didn't wait to see if Kuja would complain at the presumption. Quickly stooping, he got an arm under the shorter man's knees and swept him up, cradling him against his chest.  The fact that he was able to do it with out even a murmur of annoyance worried him. "Let's get you cleaned up and tucked into bed."

"Alright."  The mage turned his face against Laro's neck, not seeming to care about dirt or anything else.  His skin still felt a little clammy, despite the healing magic. He pressed a kiss into the silver hair as he settled into the back seat of the jeep, amazed to find the man was already asleep. 

He watched his lover sleeping for a quiet minute as Gerrick carefully drove them across camp. Now that the initial anger had faded, he was left with only with his questions, and a nameless sort of dread. "… Would someone mind telling me what the hell is going on?"

Anne looked back at him, and then over to the man behind the wheel and frowned. The sour-faced officer didn't bother to answer her unspoken question. "… You're his doctor. You deal with it."

"Oh dear."

***** 

Cythen, Changling, Twig… Thanks.

For nagging me about this fic even with Nanomango nipping at my heels. Hey, how else can I celebrate finishing my 16 pages in 16 days, other than by torturing my favorite genome.


	23. I Never Knew Your Strength

Feather Flight: ** I Never Knew Your Strength (part 23)**

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

***** 

***** 

Two of the cannons were up and running again, even if they never did look or smell like new again.  The generator on Cannon-1 finally gave up its ghost shortly after sunset the day the siege ended. It exploded in a spectacular footnote to the day's excitement, sadly killing two of the men on their way to investigate the odd noises it was making.  The second cannon's gun-deck was trashed after an almost direct hit towards the end of the fight. They'd jury rigged a platform out of a jeep and some scaffolding during the battle to keep things going, but a week later, it was time for a more permanent solution. 

Clay couldn't help but be hands-on with his new recruits. The engineers were pulling in teams to lift the new metal decks up and tie them in place for the welders. He shed his jacket and moved to give the group on the right a hand. Several of the sweaty faces were familiar to him, the hardened survivors of the cannon's original crew.  He could still smell the aftermath of the bomb blast that had killed their teammates. Grimacing at the thought he grabbed and pulled with the others, his additional strength giving it a bit more stability while the younger cadets moved in to stake the cables down.  The men fell back with a collective sigh as the burden of the platform was transferred from their arms to the inanimate anchors on the hillside.  Clay patted one or two of them as he moved, leaning against the blackened base of one of the turrets as he examined the camp below their little hill.  There was a new and irregularly shape artery carved through the middle of the dense sea of tents. Quaintly coined 'the Digger's Road' no one had been willing to re-pitch a tent where the monster had once lurked, and so its path remained a visual scar on the camp. It was one of a few left behind after a week's worth of days of relative quiet. The siege was done and the battles that had occupied them since had no heart in them. 

// And with the outer perimeter walls beefed up with the wreckage of the tents, not to mention tens of thousand Selwe shells… They've found that we're even more entrenched than before. //

He chuckled humorlessly at the thought. The digger's mammoth carcass was one of the last pieces of debris to go. Its lower half had been easy, already on the edge of camp. Ibat-kai had set up an impromptu contest among his more able-bodied men to figure out a way of rolling the worm-like body carefully into position. Good luck to any of the enemy trying to burrow through or clamber over that enormous armored beast. The smell was unfortunate, but hardly off putting enough to make it unusable.  If anything it was one of the few things that the dry desert winds did in their favor, quickly parching the insectile shells and making them nothing more than useful building materials.  

Looking down, he could still see the clearing at the center of the camp around the last remaining bit of 'debris' that needed to be hauled away.  The digger's head-- and the first five segments of its blasted body-- still lay where it fell; waiting for vehicles and men to finish more critical duties before coming to tow it away

// And now the rebuilt southern watchtower is dubbed 'Kuja's Keep' … alliterative, sure… but hardly accurate. Then again when Nazer heard it I thought he was going to blow a gasket, so I guess it was good for a /little/ laugh, if just not in his presence. //

It was no joking matter that their commander was running pretty close to the edge.  Clay grimaced, remembering just why it was he had been keeping so assiduously to the high ground and his guns for days on end.  Every time he went down into camp for a meeting he felt the need to walk very softly around the normally cheerful and forgiving man.  On the close of their tenth day after Kuja's remarkable battle, and the delicate mage was still firmly surrounded by doctors, not getting worse, but definitively not getting better.  It made for an anxious situation for everyone, the men who had seen enough to hope, the doctors who could do little more but be spectators, their kai who dearly wished for someone other than himself to blame.

// Everyone else in camp thinks I'm a bloody hero, but him? Noooo… I'm still 'that asshole who nearly killed my lover' or whatever else is going through that pea-brain of his. //

// Some of the responsibility is mine perhaps, I brought him here… but I wasn't the one who thought of it damn it, and I wasn't the one who let the digger get in… and I /wasn't/ the one who tried to blow the poor man up, so why can the bastard cut me a little slack! //  

Frustrated, Clay checked his watch and realized that he would need to hurry to be on time for the day's briefing.  He was quietly grateful that he wouldn't have to face it alone. Ibat-kai was still the voice of impartial reason in the camp, and with Nazer's mood swinging so wildly for the past several days, the old general had practically taken over, leaving his protégé to vent his anger on the field where it could be described as devastatingly effective.  The men didn't know how to respond to their general anymore. On the one hand he was as surly and unapproachable as a bear at mid-winter, on the other he seemed determined to re-write history in his favor this time; taking on the very same armies that had once defeated him and actually succeeding in gaining ground against the horde. 

// Hell if he keeps his kill-counts this high for another few weeks he may single-handedly depopulate an enemy brigade. Who's to say he can't plow right on through to the Tower and knock it over just for spite? //

Scanning the horizon came as second nature as he hitched a ride down the hill. Far to the east the black monolithic building stood firm and in the valley between the alien army remained fairly substantial looking.  It would be weeks yet before more stingers could be bred or imported from elsewhere however, and their digger was definitely irreplaceable.  The only question that continued to plague the generals was where the alien Mentor had disappeared to.  It had vanished after its failed attempt to destroy Kuja, fluttering weakly off with a small force to the far side of the valley. It couldn't stay hidden forever. If the alien intelligence could be destroyed, Nazer's victory really would be complete.  Clay silently admitted that he too would be glad to see the large alien ground under the kai's heel for the trouble it had caused.  

// I guess I've finally become another of Kuja's 'fans' after all… // 

***** 

"I completely froze, old man.  Just locked up like a broken wind-up doll…"  

Laro shook his head, hating himself for the confession but not able to keep such a vital bit of news a secret.  "If I hadn't, I would have been there. I'd have been able to keep control of the situation."

"The situation was so far out of anyone's control it's a marvel we survived it at all." The older general calmly disagreed, chewing on the end of a cigar he had been expressly forbidden to light.  

"I can't face another Mentor, Ibat… I'll do what I can in the field… but… if even seeing one is enough to make me crumple then what the hell good will I be to anyone?"

Glancing around their quiet corner of the hospital tent, Everet gathered his thoughts and grimly wished he could smoke. Thinking and smoking just naturally went together. There would be no smoking however while he was sitting next to their little sleeping beauty for fear of compromising the poor man's lungs, and Laro was stubbornly refusing to budge from the mage's side during the little 'free' time he allowed himself.

// So it's either go think and smoke by myself, which is hardly productive… or Think without smoking here… which is nerve-wracking. //  He promised himself a good long smoke later, and pushed the need aside. 

"So what do you want to do, Laro-boy… Retire? Quit? Go back to being a little grunt or play nurse until life stops being difficult again? It's not going to change anything."

"Damn it, Ibat. What am I supposed to do? I can't! I can't deal with it, ok?"  The dark soldier scrubbed his head in frustration. "I'm not who you people think I am…"

"No… No you're not. You're just a fisherman with a little bit of luck and good inter-personal skills who got into something bigger than he was…"  Smiling, he agreed with his distraught friend. "… I was the manager of a general-store once… up in the lake-country… Did I ever tell you that?  I'd done my five years of service to the king, and gone home to sell blankets, and pots, and jars of jam… and then 'boom' one night I woke up to find that the next-town-over had been smashed to bits by the arrival of this strange black tower that fell from the sky."

"… heh…"  Laro didn't look up, preferring to gather one of his lover's limp hands in his own. "No… You never told me that…"

"That's because I haven't thought about it in years." 

Everet sighed. "… At first they turned to me for help because I was the only guy in the area with 'army' experience… and then more people came to me because I was modestly successful… the next thing I know I'm personally evacuating an entire region with nothing better than farmers wielding home made spears and being summoned before the king for 'Bravery and Exceptional… something-or-other…' I can't remember.  It just happened, you know? Hardly expected the madness to last this long."

"… 'Don't complain about it' you're trying to tell me."  

"Well that… but mostly that fisherman or not, you /did/ get this far.  Other people never made it through their first year."  Watching his younger friend he gave in to impulse and patted his shoulder in encouragement. "… I recommended you the first time around because I thought you could do the job, and you did.  I'd recommend you a second time for the same reasons. Shaking in your boots with terror, you're still the man for the job."

"You're crazy."  Laro's deeply tanned hands only made the mage's skin look that much waxier. So pale as to almost be translucent, the poor man's body was running on little better than water. 

//  If it wasn't for the magic, there'd be nothing holding the fellow together at all… he'd just dissolve into sunlight and sparkles like a good mirage. //  

It was hard to believe that the silver-haired courtesan had taken on a digger single-handedly and lived to complain about it.  If not for the alien's meddling, Kuja would have even walked away from the encounter. 

//  Then again, with demonstrated power like that, Laro's little friend would instantly rise to the top of the Selwe-Most-Wanted… Damn but it would have been fun to be able to pull out 'surprises' like that more often. Hell… if he had been able to predict the mentor he could have taken it out too maybe… wouldn't /that/ have given the Queen a nasty shock. //

The thought reminded him of what he had meant to say. "No one says that it has to be you to go toe-to-toe with an alien general, pup. Let me worry about the Mentor for a while, you just grind its army down a little more."

"You?"  That got the young general's attention, he looked back to blink in surprise.

"You trying to say I'm too old to play, boy?"

"No sir."  He grinned. "I just don't want you taking any unnecessary risks to cover for me."

"We could send the boy, Gerrick… see if he can't bitch the aliens to death…"  

Everet's joke fell flat with his friend's suddenly annoyed expression. "I don't trust him."

"Don't be jealous because he's got a bit more cleverness than either of us. He's noble born, he can't help it."

"It's not that. It's just…"  Laro shook his head. "Nothing. You're right. It's stupid."

"He knew more about Kuja than you did. Because he was left behind in the capital with the man… He knew, and so was in a better position to help when needed…"  Everet chuckled as the other man cringed further down into his chair, knowing he had extrapolated all he needed from the confused reports from that afternoon.  "I'm sure that whatever he said or did was tactless, abrupt, and ill thought out, but he probably didn't mean any harm by it."

"I…"  

"… laro…?" 

Whatever the young general had been about to add to the conversation was completely forgotten.  It seemed that their steady banter had roused the third resident of the tiny room. The mage's fingers curled weakly against Laro's as he struggled to get his bearings. His friend's transformation was immediate, "I'm here, kitten. How do you feel?"

"… stop asking stupid questions…" 

// … Funny how he hates young Gerrick for his sharp tongue, but then can put up with it from his little love… or maybe that's what he was really jealous about…? That his lover would decide to choose someone with a cleverer tongue? //

Either way, it was beyond his power. Deciding the best thing to do was give his student some uninterrupted time with his companion, he stood up and bowed to the invalid with a smirk. "Master Kuja, I'll take my leave."  A pale finger flicked in the direction of the door, acknowledging him.  "And pup, stay until he sleeps again, I'll see what our other general is up to and give him his orders."

"Thanks."

***** 

"Is there any pain?"  Laro couldn't help but pester his lover. The man's fingers felt so cool against his that it was a little frightening. Dying in pieces was no way to go. The cat-man shook his head slightly, snorting at his persistence. 

"… Aches only… That and boredom with the view." He gestured at the plain white canvas making up the walls of his room. "Take me outside?"

"The doctors would kill me for risking exposing you to some sort of infection."

"Magic will cure infections readily enough." Kuja chuckled weakly, "And magic I have in abundance."

"I hear you've been teaching others… How did you manage to turn my poor soldiers into magicians?"  He changed the topic, hoping to discourage his lover's ambition to put himself in harms way. Everyone was in agreement that what the courtier needed was peace and quiet and he wasn't going to be the fool to challenge them.

//  So I challenged medical opinion once, and 'won'… but he wasn't half as sick then as he is now… A trip or stumble now may just kill him. //

Masa laughed again, successfully distracted from his complaints. "… I didn't turn them into anything… they were mages all along… living under the gap in the Net for these several months seems to have awoken that which was forced to dormancy."

Laro blinked at the interesting new bit of information.  "… So there will be more 'mages' cropping up among the men?"  

When the first scattered reports of 'paranormal' activity among his troops had trickled in, hard on the heels of Kuja's injury, he had thought them just exaggerations.  It had been the first time many of his troops would have seen magic in any shape or form, it was expected that they would be excited about it.  Apparently the doctors however had seen the results of some of the 'spontaneous magic' first hand, and had immediately started directing those who were the source to their resident expert for evaluation and a little primitive training in control.  

// According to reports, so far there hasn't been anyone really spectacular, or really anywhere near Kuja's level… but it's a start, isn't it? If we can get even the most basic magic going again… we could rebuild the skills… regain some of what was lost… //

"… I've got the ones we've found already ready looking for others, preferably before anything else is accidentally burned, frozen, or rained on unexpectedly."  His lover smirked, seeming more alive for the animated expression. "… It keeps me occupied now that I'm a prisoner here."

"You're not to exert yourself."

"And tell me, Laro, what am I saving my strength for?"

"We'll find a way… someone's bound to be a compatible blood donor for you…"  He scolded. 

"In a group of 100 random people, statistics state that two will have at least some low level of active ability at magery, and fifteen will have some dormant capacity in their genetics that can be given to their children. Therefore, in a group of fifty-nine-thousand men, I should expect to find over one thousand trainable magic users, of whom a third of which may be highly effective with practice."  The numbers came out with fluency, proving Masa had given them plenty of thought. 

"If anything, the powerful ones are being found first, since they will have the least control over their energies when they get emotional…"

"So the ones we have already, will someday be the best?"

"In theory."  The pale man agreed. "If they don't blow themselves up in the meantime."

"I don't understand, what does this have to do with your blood?"  Laro tried and failed to see why the mage had brought it up unless it was his attempt at distracting him from a topic he wished to avoid.

"Nothing Laro. Just… There is a distinct possibility, even within the army alone, of finding a replacement for me on a magical level… or at least, several replacements…"  His lover smiled grimly. "… Finding someone similar enough to me /physically/ however is statistically impossible."

"But…"

"There will be no donor, Laro.  Not in /this/ world, at any rate.  It's best not to get your hopes up needlessly. I would prefer to plan for things that /can/ be accomplished, rather than waste time on daydreams."

//  … god… he's serious… He's actually making plans for what will happen when he's… no… how can he be so cold about this… How can he not care…? //   

There was no way to fight such candid practicality.  He wanted to reach out and shake the slender man until he returned to the 'Masa' that he remembered. His lover's occasional bouts of pouting and prissiness when things didn't go his way had been frustrating, but at least they were better than calm defeat.  Having only learned recently of his mage's sudden illness, Laro couldn't help but still be in shock over it, he couldn't just give up without a fight.

// But how can I keep him from dying… if he isn't even going to try and save himself… Bastard, does staying here with me mean so little to you? //  

"… Laro…?"  

The quiet question made him look up in guilt. "Sorry, what was that?"

"You're distracted."

"I'm furious." He admitted honestly. "How could you not tell me…"

"I didn't want to bother you." Masa closed his eyes and rested against his pillows. "I knew you'd get all worked up over it, and that nothing would change things… so I though I could spare you the added stress."

"You honestly thought you could keep such a secret?!"

"I had accomplices, after all…" The mage reached up to caress his face. "More than you suspect, I imagine."

"Who, Anne? Gerrick? The other doctors?"  He frowned. "… how many at the capital knew?"

"… Everyone who mattered."

"… so I really was the last to know."  Laro closed his eyes and felt the fool.

The silver-haired man chuckled lightly, fingers tangled in his hair. "No, that honor goes to Ibat, I think, but he has less emotionally involved with the affair than you do, so I don't think he cares."

"Lucky him."

"Don't be bitter, Laro, it doesn't suit you."

"Tell me what I'm supposed to be then."  He caught the teasing fingers and lowered them back to the bedding, warming them between his hands. "Tell me what to do, Masa, because god help me I don't know what I'm going to do… If you go…"

"Win the war, get drunk, go home, get married and have a brigade of children who will grow up to be pirates and rule the high-seas with an iron fist."  The mage replied whimsically. "Or at least that would be what I'd want you to do… It would be a marvelous story. You could name your ship 'Kuja's Lament' or something suitably glamorous, and thus always remember the one who left you behind."

"Don't even joke about that."

"Heroes always ride off into the sunset, Laro… After that they're allowed to make up their own endings."  Masa's grin faltered. "Although, cynic that I am, I always figured that the reason they ended the stories there was because the hero's never outlive the sunset by much. No one wants to hear the part about how the hero gets killed by a run-away ox cart the next morning…"

He had to laugh at that, it was either laugh or cry, and he wasn't willing to break down quite yet. "… In all likelihood, we won't even win the war, so I guess the problem is solved."

"You'll win." The mage disagreed bluntly. "And soon."

"How do you know that?"  Laro looked up in surprise. "How can you possibly know that?"

"Because I swore that I would not leave until I made you victorious, sir. And it's important to me to keep that promise."  The pale man closed his eyes again with a sigh. "No more questions now. I'm tired. If you see Anne on your way out, be so kind as to tell her I wish to speak with her?"

The dismissal was crystal clear. Even a general knew better than to overstay his welcome. Laro stood up with a sigh, holding on to his lover's fingers for a quiet moment before stooping down to kiss his forehead. "All right. I'll leave you and your 'grand plan' alone for the afternoon… but I'll be back after dinner, so try to rest?"

"Yes dear."

Feeling able to offer a smirk of his own, he kissed the pale skin again. "If you're a particularly good boy, and the enemy behaves for once… I'll see if I can't sneak you out for a bit of stargazing too."

Blue eyes opened, too interested to feign sleep. "… That would be lovely, Laro."

"Rest!"  He grinned. "I'll see if I can't trip over your little doctor on my way out."

The general passed on the message, and stepped out into the sunshine only to stop and take in a deep breath of the fresh air.  He felt guilty for it the moment he breathed out, knowing he had no right to complain about the stuffy atmosphere of the hospital when he was only there for a visit rather than being a virtual prisoner of the place. All around him was dusty dry golden rock and pale blue sky, alien landscape for an ocean-man, but still a far cry better than the inside of a tent. 

// I'll get him out of there for the night, even if just for an hour… He must be going stir crazy with nothing but canvas to stare at all the time… //

***** 

When neither of her drones returned to report why the secondary engine had malfunctioned, the Queen knew that it wasn't good. Looking through the ranks of her more intelligent children she picked one of the more sturdy ones, silently hoping that its added reasoning ability would spare it the other's fate.  

_Go investigate where the others went._

The male, one of her less favored consorts, stood up gracefully and cleaned his antennae before moving to leave, his limbs tapping against the metallic floor in a steady pattern.  He was handsome enough, she decided. Not clever by any stretch, but docile, and well formed. If he had the sense to survive whatever the drones did not, then maybe she'd reward him somehow. He disappeared around a rounded and artfully patina-ed bulkhead, reluctantly setting off into the unknown. 

A board near her fourth-hand showed a layout of the ship. According to sensors it was intact, but still something had obviously gone wrong. After such a long journey in the relic, she was grimly amazed it held together at all. This ship could not make a second interstellar journey, even if she had the fuel to do so. Planet fall was necessary, and frustratingly, still too dangerous to attempt.  

… _The aggressive fauna must be eliminated…_

Her other advisors dipped their antennae in agreement.  

Feeling a little cold was nothing new, nor was the constant dim. Rationing her resources as best she could, there had needed to be a certain sacrifice of comfort. Usually her command chamber was just as bright and toasty warm as her personal rooms, and the massive egg storeroom adjacent.  The rest of the ship was plenty tolerable for her attendants, if a little cool for her. Sadly that was no longer the case. There simply wasn't enough energy left.  The egg chamber received priority, as it must. Her rooms were a little drafty but still acceptable, the rest of the ship was verging on positively cold.  As the eggs didn't really care if they were kept in darkness, their beauty was left in shadows, the rest of the ship operated with as little as possible, meaning that her children moved about not just cold, but half blind as well.  Looking over, she caught one of her navigators quietly chafing his wings to generate warmth. He promptly stopped when he realized he was being observed. 

_Where is he now?_

The mantis-like alien turned back to its console, trying to get a reading. _Approaching the aft compartment my queen.___

_Does he see anything?_  

_Nothing yet… but he reports… cold, my queen. A deep cold. He suspects the engine has malfunctioned and shut down. There is no central heat currently being supplied to the chamber because it was thought the engine would provide… He doesn't want to go further for fear of becoming trapped…_

_Call him back before he freezes… _ She scolded gently, understanding what had happened to her drones.  They wouldn't have known to complain about the temperature, had simply identified the problem and gone in to fix it.  Their frozen corpses would be found later. The queen tried not to feel guilty about not sending a more intelligent scout with them.  Drones were expendable after all. 

_Reroute power to heat the area, and once it is safe, dispatch a repair crew to restart the engine, and replace the temperature sensors in the compartment._

Her attendant bowed and obeyed, chattering softly as he worked.  Several long minutes dragged by with the sounds of mechanical clinking and groaning, the ship slowly flexing as fuel was spent and portions warmed up.  There was something mournful about its inanimate complaints. She busied herself with the hologram of the planet below, studying the near constant fluctuations of energy she could feel from the gap in her perfectly ordered system. The Kuja creature was obviously still alive, there was no doubt about that.  Her servant was reluctant to make a second attempt, calmly stating that it would be too costly for a single aberration in the herd. 

The fact that this 'aberration' had occurred at all was the worry.  Where had such a powerful anomaly come from?  And more importantly, could he spread his knowledge through the others?

For the moment at least, her barrier held. There was only a limited amount of energy being allowed down to the surface of the little planet and her remaining nodes were well protected, no matter what the pesky animals thought. The bulk of their little army was all gathered in one place, conveniently allowing her servant to gather his forces there as well. There would be no risk, she felt confident in pitting her entire drone output on the event. Every child currently on the planet was marching towards the little mammal army.

_You've taken on one of my armies and survived, little warm-bloods… but how shall you fare against three?_

With the resistance finally crushed, the rest of the continent could be wiped free as well, leaving the entire world safe for expansion once the colony was founded. No more cramped burrow on an already overpopulated planet, no more chilly ships. She would be able to stretch her wings at last.  It was a day to look forwards to.

An uncoordinated clatter made her turn to see her consort's return. Her other servants drew back in surprise at the sight of the young male. His previously flawless chitin was marred by frost-scars, dark irregular patterns burned into his shell by the cold. The male's clumsy movements proved he was still thawing out from his near brush with death.  She wondered how far into the freeze he had dared push himself before allowing himself to complain. Apparently he had gone farther than she had anticipated.

_You were very brave.  _ 

Startled by her praise, her youngest courtesan hung his head, knowing by now the reason why the others recoiled.  _I… I cannot feel my antennae…_

Even as he spoke, the left one snapped off and tinkled to the floor, where it shattered into several chunks.  Her attendants hissed in alarm. 

_Take him to the egg room to warm properly… and make him comfortable… _She goaded one of the others to assist the damaged male.  Turning to look at the rest of her consorts, she picked one of her favorites at random. _You will trade couches with him so that he can sleep in my chamber from now on. _

Her courageous scout might be too damaged to mate again, but he would be warm for the remainder of her time in space. It was the best reward she could give him.   
  


*****   
  


It wasn't exactly brilliant strategy, but he and Ibat had finally settled on a course of action.  He felt strangely relieved once he got his orders to march, needing the action, the distance from the constant drain of the hospital tent in order to keep a grip on his sanity.  There was nothing he could do in the camp anymore; too tired to reason out a better plan, too stupid to aid the doctors and new mages in curing his lover; too impatient to sit quietly like a good general ought to.  He had a feeling that Masa was glad to have him out from underfoot as well. The dark man tried hard not to feel guilty about that too. 

// He knows I'll be careful, and he'll be fine there by himself… they have him completely stable… so it's best for the both of us that I go… do something useful… isn't it? //

Laro looked over his shoulder at where one of the cannons, resting on the bed of a massive truck, was nestled in the center of his small army.   It was risky to take one beyond the fortifications, but if all went well, they'd soon have it in a new position, allowing it to act as cover for when the rest of the camp slowly abandoned the rocky heights.  With the digger gone they could push through the lowlands as fast as they wanted. Ibat was moving his forces in a westward arc, hoping to flush out any waiting ambush and trap it between their two armies.  

Directly ahead of them was another rocky stretch, and then a clear run straight into the base of the craggy tower.  Its top twinkled briefly with the rising sun, the light catching on the crystal shard embedded in its uppermost chamber like some sort of beacon.  He tried not to think about the terrible cost he would have to pay in order to claim it. At least he could look forward to his wily paramour's expression when he gifted the mage with his latest little bauble. 

// It may not be a diamond, but he seems to like them well enough. And really, it's the size of the man's torso, so he can't complain it's not big enough… //

The Selwe army was quiet. Drawing back slowly as they moved, the bugs seemed content to wait for their next order to attack.  Laro frowned at the strange behavior.  He had been expecting them to charge him all morning, as soon as he had cleared the perimeter. It didn't make any sense that they would simply observe his troops and yet do nothing to halt his progress. It implied they were 'thinking' again.  The general really wished they wouldn't.   He was far more comfortable with the aliens when they weren't plotting multi-stage sieges or sneak attacks.  If time had taught them one thing, it was caution.  This round they were taking no risks, hence the plans for a new camp, and the massive beam cannon trundling along with them. 

// Nice and easy… expect the worst… Then dish back to them just as good as they dish out. //

Keeping an eye on the tail of his column for stragglers, he nodded in contentment. Things were going according to plan. The rest he would simply have to leave to the wind to decide.

  
*****  
  
"If you're not busy sir, I have a message for you." 

Clay looked up from trying to sort out a mass of wiring and promptly grabbed a live one. He cursed loudly as a jolt went through his fingers and jerked his hand away from the control panel. One of his subordinates had the balls to snigger. "Go ahead and laugh, you're the one who's going to be fixing it."  He smirked back.

"That's harsh, general."

He patted the officer on the back to wish him luck, and still shaking the buzz from his fingers, stepped off the generator's platform to see what the news was. The lieutenant saluted cleanly, and then stood there looking confused. "Yes? What is it?"

"Begging your pardon sir, but Master Kuja… the mage… he told me to tell you… that if you have a minute today, if you could stop by and see him. He says he wants to talk to you about something…"

Clay blinked and wondered what the hell the invalid was up to.  The message was practically begging to be gossiped about. 

// Hardly his crisp, impersonal best… but then maybe his illness is finally affecting his brain? //

He hadn't set foot near the hospital since the courtier had been whisked there to heal. With Nazer constantly lurking around the place, it had seemed a foolish way to volunteer for another black eye.  The first one had been painful enough that he saw no need for a repeat.  

"That's the message? All of it?"  He tried to clarify.

"Yes sir." 

Sending the shrugging scout on his way, the general scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. There was nothing for it but to go down and see what the insufferable man wanted.  "Oi. Captain." He called back to his group on the cannon. "You have the watch. I'll be back in an hour."

"Yessir."  The man shot him mildly interested look before resuming his observation of their engineer. The officer seemed to have discovered the live wire in the case the same way he had a moment ago. The distant 'yeow' made him grin. 

// Petty, but still, mighty funny. // 

The man's grumbling made him smile all the way into camp, nodding to the few officers remaining that he knew. With large chunks of both armies on the move, he was marginally in charge of the camp.  It wasn't like one of the more experienced generals wasn't an hour away if god-forbid he couldn't handle the paper pushing by himself.  

Clay ducked into the large tent and made his way through the small flocks of patients and orderlies to the back.  It was ironic that having one particular 'sick' person on hand meant that the others could be treated and released far quicker.  So far Kuja didn't seem to mind the chore, and as it was not judged detrimental to his health, he was allowed to cast the small healing spells as he pleased. 

// Probably loves playing up the 'holy martyr' thing for all it's worth. //  

He couldn't help but feel that his wily adversary was once again pulling the wool over the world at large.  If the man could have found the energy or opportunity, he had no doubt Kuja would have spun the situation to his advantage in the blink of an eye. 

// I charge fifty per miracle, stand in line please, no shoving…. Oh, if you pay a hundred you get expedited service… Gifts? Oh no, couldn't possibly… well alright, just so long as they're expensive… leave them on the chair would you? Thanks awfully… Oh General Gerrick, just in time… do you think you could fan me? My crowds of adoring followers make the place rather stuffy don't you know… I'd have Nazer do it but he's busy peeling my grapes… //

The young general schooled his expression into something a little more formal as he ducked into the mage's quarters, not wanting to have to explain to the nurses why he was bursting out laughing at the sight of sick people. 

They could bleat on and on about the new 'savior' of a mage all they wanted, /he/ at least would stand firm. Kuja might do good things, he might do great things, he might if pressed even agree to some selfless things. That didn't change the fact that he would probably be a bastard about it right till the end though. 

// … and ironically… that too is part of his charm. //

Approaching the low bed, he bowed floridly to the man of the hour. "Hail Kuja, sage, oracle, and… hmm… I have no idea."  He looked up and grinned.

"Given your tone, general, I think I'll fill in the last adjective for myself…" The courtier replied dryly.

"Oh wait, I know…" Clay smirked. "Sage, oracle…. And brat."

"Oh, very clever."  The pale man drawled. "Your wit is perfectly suited to the schoolyard, Gerrick. Still at least you're here… just in time too."

// If he asks me to hold a fan, so help me I'm kicking him right in the ass, I don't care if he's an invalid.//

"Yeah yeah. Some of us work for a living you know."  He procured a stool and sat down so as to be on the same level as his host. 

Kuja simply snorted, sitting up fully in bed, a rare display of vigor from him. "Yes. I hear your repairs continue apace. Will the second cannon be ready for dispatching today? I hear the third is still being held up by trestles and ties…"

"Once the last of the shorted wiring is worked around the sergeants will try to get the monster back on its transport truck… We hope to have things resolved by nightfall."

"Excellent." The mage rested his arms atop his knees and gazed at him steadily. "I'm glad to hear it. That means that you are fairly 'available' starting tomorrow for a new chore?"

Clay blinked. "Chore? What the hell do you want me to do now?  I'm already under the thumb of your surly lover and Ibat-kai, I'm not exactly a free agent."

"Somewhere in my papers I still have a letter from Riquoi stating that /you/…" The courtesan pointed, "… are to endeavor to grant /me/… every possible assistance in my efforts to hasten a victory in this little war. I mean to collect on that oath, sir"  Kuja's pallor was dramatic, but his attitude was plainly the same as ever. 

"… bastard. Alright. I'll take your needs under advisement, shall I?"  He crossed his arms in frustration. "Name it."

"…I need you to take me to a Tower."

The demand was nothing if unexpected. Clay blinked, unfolded his arms and still words failed him. He shut his mouth and reconsidered.  The mage couldn't be asking what it sounded like he was asking.

// I…  I can't even begin to list how many reasons why that would be a bad idea… Take him to a Tower? I'd get beheaded for trying to take him out of this tent! //

Pushing his urge to laugh hysterically aside, he leaned forward to speak candidly. "… You… want me… to take you to a Tower."

"Yes."  Kuja was no fool. His eyes were glittering with a familiar 'don't cross me' sort of way.  "The closest one would be ideal."

"The one Nazer-kai is planning to split down the middle?" Clay clarified grimly. "Do you want to get there before or after that remarkable event?"

"He won't make it to the Tower. He'll get bogged down in fighting as soon as he crosses the last ridge."  The calm assurance with which the man spoke was a little unnerving.  "Needless to say, I will need to get into the Tower before the structure is seriously damaged."

"There will still be Selwe crawling all over it. What are we going to do, sneak in the back door?  They don't have one, you know."

"Most of their forces will be occupied with Laro," the mage disagreed. "The few remaining can easily be dealt with."

"You're going to zap them." He spoke his thoughts as they came. "That makes sense I guess… How many men were you thinking would come along?"

"None." Kuja smirked. "You, me, one jeep. Without any extra weight, you should be able to avoid most of the battle, drop me off, and then evacuate the area in good time."

// oh great… a suicidal drive into enemy controlled territory, directly /behind/ their army, in full view of their Tower, where I will drop off our very own Magical-Homing-Beacon-For-Bugs…. And drive… off? //

The utter lunacy of the idea left him dizzy.  The fact that the courtier had the audacity to sit there and propose crap of that level with a straight face only proved that the blood-loss had permanently addled his brain.

"The fuck I will!"  

"All I need is transportation, Gerrick."  The delicate man scolded. "The rest I can handle."

"If I … by some /extremely/ remote chance… I go crazy enough to actually agree to this suicide pact… What the hell would I accomplish leaving you behind to get mangled by bugs?"  Clay scrubbed his head.  

"I might as well stay with you and take it like a man.  Not much point in staying healthy for a court marshal… and you know damn well that if you get so much as a bruise with me involved, I'll never even get a trial… Nazer-kai will have my head mounted on the front of his jeep."

"… I'll make sure your career is intact when I'm through with you."

"Hard to do if you're dead." He snapped back, not feeling at all mollified.

The mage smirked.   "You're just going to have to trust me on this one."

"You're insane."

"I'm going with or without you."  

"You can't even stand without help."  Clay disagreed.

"Never-the-less…"

Getting into a staring contest with the pale man was no way of wining an argument. He glanced around the tiny little private room, taking in the stacks of reports tucked around the sides of the bed. Anything was better than trying to meet that determined blue-eyed stare head on. He was tempted to go behind the mage's back and tell Nazer about the hair-brained scheme. Any amount of money would be a sure bet that the general had no idea what his lover was planning while he was away.

// And then Riquoi will have my proverbial balls in a sling for not letting Kuja have free reign… the old man knew all along that we'd be tip-toeing around Nazer in order to accomplish anything useful… The man just isn't willing to risk his 'pretty' on a whim. //

Weighing his options, he had to appreciate just how well caught he was in the middle. No doubt the mage had already realized all of this and was simply waiting for him to catch up.  Clay sighed and settled more comfortably into his chair. "Right… well… what exactly do you plan to do if we let you out of here? Or is that some sort of secret?"

"Hmmm no, it's no secret… but you're not going to believe me…"

"You'd be surprised."

"Perhaps I would."  Leaning closer as well, Kuja smiled dryly. "Very well general… /this/ is what I have in mind…"

  
***** 

Ten hours after Kuja unfolded his plan, Ibat's column of troops stumbled across not just a brigade, the main bulk of a /second/ Selwe army. Radios all over camp crackled to life with reports of a sea of black insects to their west, a sea that was sweeping steadily their direction.  Instead of surrounding their enemy, the two Kai's armies were both too far east, and now working to rejoin each other and put together some sort of preliminary defensive.  The tattered Selwe army that Laro had been stalking was nothing more than a decoy for the fresh troops moving in. 

The news had been chilling to the genome, but not at all unexpected. 

Twenty hours after finally talking his reluctant ally around to his way of seeing things, Kuja was trying not to wince as he was helped into a well-padded backseat.  The doctor holding his arm steady looked down and cringed as well, seeing the mark left by his gentle grip.  For the tenth time that morning, the genome silently cursed Garland to the lowest depths of hell.  A little forbearance was all that was required however, and keeping his complaints to himself, he was soon allowed to slouch into the quilt with a sigh.  Gerrick was in serious discussion with one of his captains, probably leaving instructions for what would happen when he was either discovered by the other generals, or simply never came back.

// Or both. Both is a very real possibility… Not that I want him to die… but still. //

He felt a little bad about getting the man involved. Certainly the young commander was no paragon of humanity, but he was putting himself on the line for this little adventure.  In the end it was simply a necessary evil, he could hardly drive himself, and while magic was an option, he preferred a slightly more stealthy approach.  With luck the officer would be able to complete his portion of the mission with no difficulties, which only left him the messy ordeal of cleaning up, should Kuja be successful, or being lynched if he wasn't.   

// Even with my instructions and explanations to Riquoi, there's no guarantee that poor Mr. Gerrick will have an easy life if he survives. //  

Kuja looked around the camp, noting the rather battered and forlorn appearance it had from countless hasty repairs.  

// At least I can see to it that he has a fighting chance… And Laro… Laro deserves a chance… //

The soldier had a strange look on his face the day he had left, as if at some level he already knew that they were only just beginning to see the true face of war.  The genome frowned, wishing he had said something to comfort his lover. The truth was Laro was probably correct. If the Selwe's goal was domination, they'd have more than one army, no matter how mighty the current one had been.   There would have to be drones enough to sweep a continent.  The worry was where were they, and when would they arrive.

He nodded at the stubbled general as he clambered into the driver's seat. Gerrick looked back at him as if silently measuring how serious he was. "… last chance to go back to bed…"

"There's no going back."  Kuja smiled. "Besides, it's a beautiful morning for a drive."

"… Right."  Too tense for humor, the officer gunned the engine and muttered a prayer. "… You never did answer my last question…"  The vehicle jerked forward, Gerrick's foot heavy on the pedals. 

Slouching lower in his seat, the genome tried not to get bounced around. Ideally he could arrive at the battle at least partly unbruised. The shard was packed tightly into the truck as well, wedged down by his feet for when it was needed. Magic was plentiful even if health was not. 

He watched the landscape as they left camp, waiting until they accelerated on the valley floor to answer. "And what question was that?"

"If by some bizarre twist of fate, I survive this and you don't… what am I supposed to tell Nazer?"

"Hopefully nothing." He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sunlight. It reminded him of his first long months on the beach.  "I wrote to him… Just dodge when he tries to hit you the first few times, and give him the letter when he stops for breath."

"Ha ha."  Focused on his driving, the soldier didn't bother to glare at him. His radio crackled with near constant updates on the Selwe Army.  Ibat's forces had successfully gotten out of the way, and it sounded as though Laro was already partially engaged with the enemy, but still managing to perform something of a strategic retreat. He had the cannon to escort back to camp, he couldn't afford to be hasty.  

There wouldn't be anymore lulls between the battles anymore, just one long crushing grind until all that was left of his friends was dust.  It was sensible therefore to go out and meet the challenge head on, catch it before it could gather momentum, and destroy it in a clean sweep. 

Kuja looked down at his hands, calm and tremor free for the moment, and then sighed at the sight of his clothes. The wool robe was cozy and comfortable but low on style.  He had been so caught up in actually preparing for his trip that he had overlooked dressing appropriately for the occasion. 

// … Not like there will be anything worth mentioning left of my clothing when I'm done… probably won't live long enough to care… hope I don't… //

Somehow he expected to feel a little more stressed about his plan.  Even with his personal expectation of survival at a depressingly low 10%, he couldn't help but look forward to things. It would be one last golden opportunity to leave his mark on the universe at large. Guarantee that not one but two worlds might possibly remember his name long after the rest of him had gone. 

//  Here lies Kuja… destroyer of some worlds, savior of others. Hate him or love him, all he asks is that you remember him from time to time. //

Gerrick eventually became irritated at the constant noise and shut his radio off. They drove in relative silence over the empty landscape, the general swinging wide to avoid any likely hiding places for aliens moving to attack Laro.  Hopefully the Mentor was sufficiently occupied to ignore or overlook any reports of a stray piece of human technology wandering into his territory. 

Pulling clear of the dry riverbed and onto a flat field, Kuja couldn't help but lean forward in interest, staring at his target up-close for the first time.  The base of the tower was a jagged mound of broken earth and something vaguely resembling black volcanic glass. 

// They really were launched from space… like massive spears… or dud missiles that crashed… but never exploded… //

A crude sort of road was cut through the debris leading up to a singular narrow door, after that it was all he could do to tip his head back. Up, up and up the Tower was utterly symmetrical, a sort of hexagonal lighthouse marooned in the middle of the desert. In a strange way it reminded him of the Lifa tree, save this structure was one of potentially thousands, where Garland's tree had been a singular source of destruction. Even a quarter mile from its base, he could hear the distant wail of its shard, the bit of crystal embedded in its uppermost level.  Kuja smiled an ironic little grin remembering the size of the one he has callously smashed in Alexandria. 

Someone was apparently aware of their arrival. A small group of drones trundled rapidly down the road to meet them. Gerrick was in the midst of a stubborn streak, willfully driving right at the massive aliens with no sign of stopping. 

// If he damages the engine, he'll be stuck with me for good or ill. //  

A burst of Fira cleared the path admirably, and earned him a glare of annoyance. He simply shrugged "To spare your tires, sir. Drive on."

What had appeared narrow from a distance was actually more than ample for their small vehicle.  The surface under their tires transitioned from gravel to smooth polish. Another burst of magic, and the first level of the building was laid to rest.  

Kuja admired the lofty and rather minimalist style of the interior as his driver parked the truck and hoped out to prod at one of their still smoking hosts.  The massive insect was utterly inert, as were its three companions. Lightening at close quarters was nothing to sniff at.  The mage shielded his face from a particularly strong draft of smoke.  

The way up was lit with long tubes of light, he watched them flicker wondering if they were a fluorescent-based system or something more arcane, but decided he couldn't tell without breaking one.   The ramp curved upwards, clinging to the wall on all sides, leaving a hollow atrium open to the air and a rather remarkable spiral effect when a person stood in the center and stared straight up.  From the levels above, the clatter of alien feet could be heard. The rest of the Tower's residents seemed to be coming to see them.  

Gerrick didn't bother to look around. He was busy methodically stripping the crystal shard out of the jeep, cursing in a steady stream to cover his fear. "Come /on/. Kuja. They've doubtless alerted the others by now… you haven't much time to master the crystal… if you even can…"

"Of course I can…"  He accepted the hand offered, and pulled himself upright, pausing to cast a fireball upwards as he went.  It impacted somewhere unseen and above, causing a variety of hissed complaints and at least one victim. The black carapace tumbled down from the third level and landed with a wet clatter. 

Kuja eyed the long climb with a sigh. Sadly the ramp was just too narrow to drive, and he knew he didn't have the energy to walk.

"Now what, do I carry you to the top?"  The soldier gave him a uniquely sour look before also turning his eyes upwards. His voice echoed hollowly in the vast chamber, distorted by the distant heights. 

// Fair question, I was personally expecting an elevator or something of the like… how inefficient. //

What couldn't be found could be made.  

The genome looked at the floor beneath their feet and back up at the distant roof above and did a quick calculation. The truck would have to stay behind, but then again, he didn't really feel like lifting it in the first place. Catching a hold of his fidgeting escort's arm to keep him from wandering off, he placed one hand firmly on the crystal he carried and pulled a generous measure of strength.

// Why spend mine, when I can spend someone else's… //  

With a silent tip of his hat to cosmic forces, especially a particularly inexplicable crystal, he deftly twisted magic together. The floor cracked beneath them in a roughly circular pattern, the plates of steel popping off their frames and bearing them upwards as steadily as hydraulics.  Kuja took a brief moment's pleasure in hearing the young general's swearing pause, and start up again with renewed vigor. Something about 'lunatic mages' seemed to have found its way into the unlikely mantra.   

They ascended the center of the hollow spiral on a cushion of air, slipping past the amazed aliens trundling downwards to greet them. The walls grew closer as they rose; their smooth black polish giving them impression that they were traveling the bore of some inky black seashell. The almost rainbow sheen caused by the evenly spaced lights added to the mystery. If not for the clatter of anxious drones, the place would have had a cathedral like aura to it. So much echoing space on all sides, the hush was almost a feeling.  He couldn't imagine what a Tower under siege had to sound like. The echoing noise would have to be unbearable.

Kuja kept his eyes upwards, focused on his goal. The spell became easier to support as closer he drew to the second shard. Looking over at the piece in Gerrick's possession he made note of its strengthening brilliance and clarity.  

// It seems my hunch is correct… all the shards… are probably from the same source… remarkable. Convenient for me, at any rate. Very convenient. Why harness the power of one crystal, when I can tap them all? //

Mentally estimating the size of each piece, and then the number of shards in total, he was left with a staggeringly large hypothetical stone.  It must have easily been the size of the prized stone-heart of Brahne's castle.  That particular crystal had been home to the magical beast Alexender before it had been defeated by Bahamut.  He wished he had the dragon king's strength now or even his own admittedly gentler silver dragon, riding dragon-back had been one of the few joys of traveling on Gaia without his warship.  Trucks were better than walking, or carts, but they just didn't compare to the elegant comfort of airships. He wondered how the Gaians were faring now that their Mist energy was gone. They were probably enjoying returning to the lowlands too much to care.

"Looks like they're coming back up." The general's comment, remarkably curse free, broke his train of thought.

Kuja glanced down to see that the group of Selwe they had passed were indeed reversing course to chase them back up. They were not nearly as fast on the uphill climb as they were on the downhill however. Progressing vertically as they were he had no doubt who would reach the top first. "The ramp gets narrower as it goes up as well they'll be one-abreast by the time they reach us. Think you can handle it?"

His escort merely patted the laser gun strapped on his back and looked upwards to anticipate their arrival. "Looks like our ride stops one floor short."

"I can manage a one floor climb I think."  Kuja tucked his hands into his sleeves. "Once you've dealt with the welcoming committee, you'll have to run the ramp to get back to the truck."

"I dunno, I might want to stick around, see the show." The general smiled sardonically. "Supposed to be the highlight of the season, I'm told."

"… Gerrick, if I am successful in my endeavors; one of the likely results will be the immediate obliteration of the Tower."  The silver-haired man explained calmly. "You've been… an interesting companion… in my time here. I would hate to have you killed by falling debris if I can help it."

"… If you blow up the Tower, what happens to you?" The young officer met his gaze a long moment before realizing he didn't need an answer. "… Right. Don't suppose I can remind you that I am firmly casting a vote for 'Kuja walks away from this one'?  Really, you're a bastard, but like you said… things have been interesting since you came around."

The genome rolled his eyes. "I'll take your request under advisement. Do whatever the hell you want, soldier. Just get yourself and your jeep safely out of range of the Tower before you do it?"

"Fair enough." Gerrick primed his gun and took his position at the top of the ramp. "But just so you know, if it does blow up, I'll probably be obliged to pick through the crap to find what's left of you."

"Try to restrain my well-wishers from erecting any completely-tasteless memorials?"

"Heh. Get moving, mage, you're not exactly at top speed, you know."

Kuja laughed lightly and cast two spells in quick succession to float him up and away from his little levitating panel. As soon as their make-shift elevator was ignored, the metal plate shivered in the air and promptly toppled, spinning lazily in the air like a massive platter as it dropped twenty stories to smash into the ground next to the jeep with an impressive sound. Cursing at the unexpected projectile and peering over the edge, the surly general shouted, "You scratched the paint, Asshole!" after him as he glided into the top-most level of the Tower.  The genome had to smile at the final irate memory he would have of the man.  Somehow it was exactly as it should be.

The shard-room offered an amazing view. Open on all sides to the wind and sky, it felt as though he was standing on the top of the world. Again, he couldn't help but compare it in some way to the Lifa tree. Overhead the roof was bent in a strange convex. He pondered the shape and decided it had to be a sort of collecting dish to aide the crystal in trapping and amplifying signals. The chiming shard was certainly loud enough, its song clear and sharp from its resting place in the central pillar. Fully linked with the power grid of the Net, it was alive with bright yellow light.  

Kuja let his magic fade, dropping him gently on his feet next to his target.  Closing his eyes he reached out for the multifaceted gem, feeling the branches of the links coming and going from his nexus.  It wasn't one of the dominant Towers, only four channels in total being routed through the shard on their way to elsewhere. Two of the paths however linked directly to major hubs.  His fingers itched with the sheer volume of power vibrating from the distant shards. It wouldn't take much to overload the system. One little push in the wrong place, one little surge, and it would all tumble down.  Of course, such outages could be repaired.  What he aimed to do was something far more permanent.  Besides, there was still the question of what would be done with the ship floating in orbit above.

//  It should have been me. //  He sighed.  

// Zidane had no taste for killing, it should have been me to be named 'Angel of Death'… stupid, Garland, very stupid, you always did overlook things that were staring you in the face. //

Reaching out, he placed a hand on the glowing surface, knowing it would alert anyone else listening to the Net that he had arrived.  He could hardly go up and knock on the Queen's door to talk to her. He figured this was the easiest way of getting her undivided attention.

// Knock knock… anyone home? //  

The genome smirked at his own joke.

_…Kuja…?_

The mathematically precise tone of the alien queen's thoughts flickered through the shard with only a moment's delay.  She was afraid of him.

She had good reason to be.

// Greetings majesty, I have come to ask for your surrender. // 

*****   
***** 

-meant to get further with this, and then realized I was at a good place to stop. Shocking. 

--Lunar


	24. Soon Now You Will Leave Me

Feather Flight:  Soon Now You'll Leave Me Behind (part 24) 

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

***** 

***** 

With a feeling of almost divine omniscience, Kuja extended his consciousness one shard at a time.  Relaying from Tower to Tower with the speed of a thought, he easily overrode the Selwe defense mechanisms to dominate the crystalline conduits. He laughed at the sensation of being everywhere at once, able to see almost the entire planet from over a thousand different points of view.  Only where the oceans stretched wide and free did his reach fail.  There were no Towers in the vast blue. At best he could follow the links around the edges and across where the continents lay close together.  

Selwe thoughts cluttered the channels between the stones, distracting him with their frantic chattering. With a deft twist of will, he closed the crystals off to the irritating interference, shutting all access points save the one reaching down from orbit.

_Kuja__, what have you done?_

The sudden silence was as frightening to her as it was delightful to him.  He ignored the alien queen's distress as he settled the Net to his liking. "I've decided I'm quite fond of your little toy. I think I shall claim it for my own."

_You mustn't!_

Wondering how much control he had over the frequencies in the stones, he urged them to stop blocking the energies radiated from the distant stars, and start collecting them instead. The result was both immediate and impressive. 

Kuja grinned at the ripple of power that rushed through the system, ready and waiting at his fingertips.  It felt good, a golden rush of life energy. The crystals did their work in perfect unison, a planet-sized amplifier at his beck and call. He could feel the weaker Towers growing over burdened, their shards threatening to burst under the added strain, but they would last more than long enough to suit his purpose. 

The genome hummed softly in tune with the shard's wild vibrations.  It took real effort to pull himself away from the distracting ebb and flow of power.  The Queen and her problems were annoying, forcing him to concentrate on something other than the amazing feelings that the crystal network was feeding him. 

// God what am I doing? // 

He shook himself free of the mesmerizing grip of the stones, recalling his purpose  // Stupid, pay attention or she really will kill us all… //  

The tiny burst of terror did the trick, settling him firmly back into his body and the world at large. Kuja flexed the Net again, just to prove he could, and turned to the address the Queen. "You have no alternative, you must surrender."

_To be defeated is to face oblivion!_ She hissed back, thoughts strident with worry. 

She was somehow still able to maneuver her consciousness around his, dizzyingly flexible as she twisted and dodged to grab pieces of the Net from him.  He in turn snatched them back, forcing her to abandon signals half sent. After a frantic moment of shifting energies they reached another stalemate. Kuja could feel her exhaustion, knowing the power grab had cost her more than it had him.  The alien was nothing if not relentless.

_This world must be ours! There is no other!  My children must survive._

"Their survival is the reason why I want you to surrender." Kuja sighed. "This world cannot be yours through conquest, but perhaps, through cooperation?"

_Never.__ Warm-bloods are savage._

"Your prejudice does you no credit." He scolded, giddy from the overflow pouring into him from the shard. The woman was being entirely unreasonable, her personality an odd mix of logical and dogmatic.  Grimly he wondered if a truce would even be possible. He hadn't counted on her black-and-white view on victory.  It was infuriatingly childish.

"Compromise is your only option!"  Opening his eyes, he stared up at the dark tile of the ceiling, seeing beyond it to the massive ship hanging in orbit. Despite its size, it was still just a lonely speck when compared to the enormous empty places between stars.  Kuja knew exactly how easy it once would have been to swat the bit of technology out of the sky. "Please, I do not want to destroy you."

_The others of your kind will not agree to this.  They fear us as much as we fear them._ She whispered after a long silence.  

"They'll learn." He smirked. "Humans are remarkably adaptable when they set their minds to it."

_Incomprehensible._

"At times."  Kuja agreed, skimming the network at his command once again, resisting the rushing glow of the shards in order to gain a practical understand what the battered planet had to offer. 

The devastation on the southern-most continent was absolute.  He silently gazed in awe at the wreckage of the large human cities, already half claimed by the growing deserts. Intricate nests were rising from the rubble like little soap bubbles of green, blue and gold. The distant alien structures looked strangely beautiful among the shifting sands. "Your ship. Is it able to descend and land, or are shuttles required?"

_It can be landed_.  The queen hesitantly acknowledged. _But a return to space would be impossible._

"The area to the south-east is not capable of sustaining humans any longer. I will give it to you for your new home."

_It is too small._ She hissed. _My children need more room._

"Your children will have to learn some moderation."  He snapped back. "Otherwise even without sharing with us, you will exhaust this world in a matter of centuries, just as your race consumed the last one."

_We must expand._ The queen countered.  _Growth is our imperative._  

"To what purpose?" Kuja felt the other's mind turn the question over doubtfully, trying to find a response.  "To what end do you consume all that is put before you?"

_It… It is what we have always done_. Her thoughts came slowly across the link, her tone grudging.  _It is our imperative._

"High time for a change then, I think." He replied with candor.  

Kuja wasn't surprised when she lunged again, making a second desperate attempt to regain control of the Net. Moving to meet her challenge he anticipated her consciousness in another dizzying dance from Tower to Tower, each trying to cut the other out of the network.

***** 

"What in hell is going on?"  Laro wondered aloud.  

He would have worried that nobody was watching the enemy, except that the attacking army had fallen into complete disarray. Half the armored insects were milling about in a panicked mob, the rest stood as if frozen in place.  As odd as the sight was, the drama over head was what had riveted his troops' eyes skyward. 

The distant Tower was flaring, the whole Net unnaturally brilliant. Normally it was near impossible to see at midday, the sun bright enough to mute its light. Studying the sky, he was amazed to see the whole grid picked out against the blue. The golden bands were partially obscured by passing clouds but brilliant just the same, a cage of light encircling the sky.  

The winds gusted erratically, picking up dust and loose debris and throwing them into the air.  The hot squalls and dust-devils held a strange scent of ozone as they swept by. It made the hair on the back of his neck tingle with the changing atmosphere.

// Some kind of attack…? What are they planning? //  

There was something distinctly menacing about the wildly fluctuating energies. Given the complete chaos of the Selwe army, he couldn't imagine that the Tower's behavior was intentional. The aliens would hardly use a weapon that harmed their own troops.  Or at least he hoped not.  

The echo of Masa's voice came back to him faintly, wondering aloud at the Queen's expendable army. He shuddered at the thought and barked out orders to pick up the pace of their retreat.  While the aliens were distracted his men might as well take advantage and gain some ground.  Ibat's forces were already climbing back up onto the mesa, safely home despite the near disaster that had occurred less than twelve hours ago.  Glancing over the ridge at the ocean-sized army of black insects, Laro shuddered and counted his blessings that they stood momentarily crippled.  Even with the cannon in his possession, fighting a horde that size would be tantamount to suicide. 

"Come on… move. There'll be plenty of time to gawk at the sky once we're back on high ground."

Moving as if waking from a dream, the soldiers around him threw themselves into action, grimly retreating at a steady pace back along the broken remains of a road.  Sitting in his jeep, Laro didn't have to worry about watching his footing. He scanned the horizon instead, observing the distant army for any sign of waking up.  The insects continued to clump in dazed huddles, seemed just as confused as everyone as to what was happening. 

Laro grabbed for his radio and flipped it on.  Whatever the Towers were doing was playing hell with the frequencies, the noise across all bands was in penetrable.  For a moment he thought he heard Ibat's voice above the crackle of static, but there was no way to tell if the older general heard him.  Unhindered, they were able to cover the flat land quicker than expected, climbing a second set of hills and pausing within sight of home.  Still the aliens did nothing, oblivious that their prey was soon to escape.

// Not like it matters. There are so many, they could swamp the mesa with only a fraction of that… How in the hell can we be expected to stand and fight? Even with an army of mages, which I just don't have, the odds are ludicrous. //

Even Kuja wouldn't be able to stop the tide of battle, should the Selwe decide to lay siege a second time.  Even if the man had the stamina for the fight, which he didn't, there were simply too many. The very idea of taking on an army that size all at once left Laro a little giddy.

// We'll have to retreat to the mountains. It's our only hope. We'll use the passes and highlands as a way of breaking the enemy into more manageable pieces. If we meet them head on here, we'll be annihilated. //

Grimly composing the message he would send back to the capital in his head as he rode back to camp, Laro tried hard not to think about what a forced-march would do to his already fragile lover.  It was entirely likely that the man wouldn't survive the trip.  

// Stupid. Damned foolish… I should have sent him home as soon as he arrived.  This is all my fault. Less than a month out here, and he's already broken-down past hope for a cure.  I should have never let him stay here. //  

It was selfish, he realized, to fear for the survival of one, when his entire army was facing a strong possibility of destruction.  He cared, he tried to, but in the end his thoughts returned to Kuja. 

Laro wondered if the news of the new enemy armies had reached the hospital tent yet, realizing that it must have.  He couldn't begin to guess what his lover was thinking as he lay in his quiet corner listening to the changing tide of battle.  Was he even worried about how he would handle an arduous evacuation? Or was he too concerned with plotting out a strategy that would win the army a victory that he had no intention of surviving long enough to see.  Swallowing back his bile, Laro studied the sky and prayed grimly for a miracle. 

// I know two in one year is a lot to ask, lord. But I, no, /we/ could really use a hand down here. //

***** 

Kuja panted with the exertion of tangling with the Queen's will from several directions at once. So far the Net was still predominately under his control, but shutting the aliens out of it proved more of a challenge than he had expected.  She was undoubtedly getting help, thoughts moving in strangely parallel ways at times during her attacks, and he, while relatively stronger, found he was still able to be out maneuvered.  

// Egotistical of me, to think I could waltz in and easily beat her at her own game. Silly Kuja, what are you going to do now? //

He was not as successful at keeping the Queen from broadcasting as he would have liked. In a momentary pause he had a chance to look down at the battle on the surface, and grimaced to see that Selwe army had apparently received one of her terse signals. The black sea of drones was slowly starting to regroup and move.  The horde no longer needed additional guidance from above. Somehow she had alerted her creature on the ground to do as it wished. 

There was no way to warn Laro that the Mentor was coming, no way to use his leverage in the Towers to affect the battle on the ground even if he had the attention to spare.  The only hope he had was that the alien general would be somewhat crippled by not being in constant communication with the mothership. Any orders it needed to relay, would have to be done from drone-to-drone rather than through the Towers.  Kuja was willing to take a gamble that it would slow down the army enough to allow the humans to retreat. 

Still, it was exceptionally irritating.

// Bitch. //

// You can't go behind my back if I cut the channels you're using out of the Net for good… //

He spitefully dumped energy through two channels that simply couldn't handle the load, shattering a series of Towers planted far down the coast. He mourned the loss of the shards, but the sacrifice was more than worth it.  No longer able to use them as relays, the Queen shrieked her rage at him and quickly retreated to a node half a world away before she could be trapped.  He grinned and raced after her, determined that this time the Net would be his in entirety.

"Come lady, surely you can see that this fight is pointless."  At a stalemate once again, He watched her closely, trying to guess her next move. Her silence was a little unnerving. Doubtless, she was up to something.

_Compromise is unacceptable.  You are but one individual, you can be destroyed. _

Her pronouncement came after a silence that lasted minutes.  Kuja could only roll his eyes, not missing the dark humor of the situation.  It was strange to hear his previous opinions thrown so blatantly back into his face. 

The Queen was making her move, but not from within the Net. Kuja sensed her ship altering its orbit, Selwe technology too alien for him to be able to tell if the movements were meant to be threatening. Whatever her plan she was willing to expend precious fuel to power the engines, and other dormant systems as well, he vainly wished he could get a clearer idea of what she was up to. 

"This is a mistake."  He called out, feeling her distraction with things aboard her ship but unwilling to risk attacking her consciousness. Kuja wanted her alive, feeling that if he killed her by accident, the resulting chaos would be catastrophic.

_You _will_ be destroyed!_

"Listen to me!" He could feel her slipping away, "There are other answers! We don't have to do this!"

_I have nothing more to say to you, mammal._

"… I'll prove it to you, that there is another answer. Lady, I have seen it with my own eyes. There is another way."

_It is not _our_ way._

"Then I am sorry for you." 

Eyes wide, he felt her strike. The Queen destroying her Net even as he had done, detonating the smaller shards with a massive surge of power even as he scrambled to redirect her attack to protect the remaining crystals.  There was a certain bitter irony, he realized as he desperately fought to isolate and buffer from the strike, that he was struggling to maintain the very same technology that was intended to enslave the world.  

// Cleverer than I gave her credit for //  

He smirked even as he grimly counted his losses.  The Net still stood, but three Towers in five were nothing but burned out husks.  

// She found my weakness after all…//

The crystal's song, still pulsing beneath his fingertips, was slowly dwindling.  Weakened as it was, he still felt its reaction when the second strike began.

***** 

Stars were falling, or maybe comets.  Clay tried to follow the bright flares with his eyes but kept needing to look away, the brightness too much. They left after images on his retinas when he turned away and glanced around the narrow gully.  There was no sign of life, animal or alien in his narrow hiding place. 

He wondered where the Selwe were, how they were responding to the sudden shifts in their precious Towers.  There was no doubt that Kuja had succeeded in doing /something/. The monoliths had never acted so strangely before. He wondered if it was a good sign or a bad one. The radio's near constant hiss of static had died down abruptly, making him nervously aware that he could no longer hear the distant din of battle, couldn't hear anything in fact. 

"Come on, Kuja… what the hell are you doing."

Fumbling, he grabbed for the now silent radio and cautiously pressed the transmit button. "… This is general Gerrick, asking for verbal confirmation from Generals Nazer and Ibat."

Staring upwards, he watched the trails of light as they continued to silently fall. They had separated a little now, becoming roughly fifty twinkling streamers across the sky.  

// Maybe the Selwe are sending us new Towers to replace the one's we've demolished… //

"Gerrick lad, is that you?"  His receiver crackled madly, the voice recognizable as the older general's. "God damn it. Radios are working again. Quick count-off people, use band-3.  Gerrick, the bugs are on the move again. Prepare for evacuation, got it?"

He rolled his eyes knowing he was nowhere near the installation to give the necessary orders. The transmission band was suddenly full of high-ranking officers from each unit reporting in. Hopefully one of his subordinates was listening in as well and could get the job done. Clay waited until he wouldn't talk over someone else and gave his response, "Understood, general."

"This is Nazer. I can see the Mentor. It's on the southern ridge."  

The man's tone sounded strangely flat, even with the distortion of the radio. Clay wondered if the war hero would finally just snap and get it over with.  Considering that as soon as he got back to camp, he'd discover his little lover had taken it into his head to wreak havoc in an enemy Tower all on his own, the Kai's impending melt-down probably could be written into the schedule in ink. 

"What are those lights? More Towers?"  He dared to ask.

"… Maybe?"  Ibat didn't sound particularly confident. "Maybe something worse. We won't know until they land."

"Get moving." Nazer's feedback was to-the-point. "Best not to stand around and wait to find out." 

Whatever the lights were, they were definitely falling. Spreading out as they went, they grew larger as they went, their movement gradually gaining in sound with each passing moment.  He watched several of the trails disappear over the mountain range, heading for somewhere inexplicable.  Listening to the faint shriek from one of the other lights, he felt strangely confident that it was heading his way.  Suddenly he recognized the paths each of the lights was taking.

// … They're not aiming at the army at all… they're… aiming for the Towers? //

Glancing over his shoulder at where the closest monolith continued to flare, he swallowed and put the truck in gear, backing it further down the gully. 

The faint shriek became a roar.  He watched the sharp shadows his truck was suddenly casting, marveling at the white light, before doing the only thing he could think of.  Clay dove out of the vehicle and scrambled underneath it.

// This is going to be loud… //  

***** 

Kuja snarled in frustration at being trapped inside the Tower. He knew what was going on, but not being able to /see/ it was slowing him down by critical degrees.  Somewhere in the distance, a missile collided with one of the larger shards, destroying its Tower and knocking two smaller ones out of the network.  The loss in power was immediate.

// I can't function without the crystals, damn it! // 

He already has as much power as he could hold within him, but was reluctant to let go of the crystal all together. Once he tapped into his reserves, there would be no going back.  

// _Now_. It has to be now, before I'm crippled all together. //

The smooth polished ceiling and roof detonated up and outwards with a word, opening his room to the sky above.  For a moment he was blinded by the sunlight, and then realized that it wasn't the sun alone.  A missile was arching towards him, a comet sized warhead blazing a trail of white fire as it closed for the kill.  He blinked, reminded of the old films of Terra he had watched as a child, terms long forgotten floating to the surface.

// Orbital bombardment… fission bombs? //  

He didn't want to wait until one exploded near by to find out. 

// I try to help her… keep her from destroying herself… and she repays me with trying to atomize me? Now_ that_ is gratitude for you. //

The anger was good, necessary even.  Kuja dug deeper.  It was ironic that for once his quick-to-rise temper wasn't there for him. Before, with Garland, it had been so damn easy. Even now he felt the old spark of rage flare at the memory of the Terran scientist.  This was all _his_ fault in the end. Kuja grinned bitterly, clinging to the outraged feeling. It wasn't quite enough yet, but soon.

// How the hell did Zidane do it so easily?! He could Trance at the drop of a hat, I swear… was he just that much more high-strung than me? That much stronger? Or is there something, even now, that I'm missing? //

The thought was galling. He had researched the power of Trance for years as he had waited for Gaia to fall, knew more about it than anyone.  The beauty of it wasn't that the power came from rising above adversity, or any defensive reflex. It was about rage, the pure primal need for destruction that even the most well balanced person might feel when thwarted in their goals. Unchecked, it would grow wildly, running out of control and spending itself with little to show for it. But focused in the right way, and with the right motivation… Zidane had proven it. A successful Trance was unbeatable. 

// She doesn't care at all. Her own life is meaningless to her without victory.  She will kill everyone and promptly turn the whole world into a manufacturing plant for a new spaceship to go find another world… and start everything all over again… Unless I end the cycle… //

Laro dead. 

Anne dead.  

All of his other stubborn friends dead.  He had never asked for them to care about him, had never planned to reciprocate, but they were dear to him just the same.  The thought of the capital city laid to waste, familiar streets pocked with craters was too horrible.

Hundreds of thousands of nameless soldiers strewn across the fields, crushed under the Selwe army as it advanced towards the sea. 

For what? Some nebulous paranoid fear the insects had about sharing a world they had no right to in the first place.  Kuja clenched his fists.  It was sick. It was wasteful. 

It was exactly as bad as he had done. 

Fury, at the aliens, at himself, it warmed him to the marrow and sparkled behind his eyes.  The futility of it all, to have come so far, and willfully risked caring about so many people, and still, to be told that none of it mattered.  The idea of losing to her hurt ferociously. 

// I won't allow it. //

Changeover caught him just as the markings on the approaching missile were clear enough to read. He staggered back with a gasp as he was swept up in the torrent, blurrily aware of the bomb crumpling and exploding impotently in midair on contact with his expanding energies. Current raced along his skin with an itchy burn, transforming flesh and incinerating cloth.  It left him with an impression of lightness and strange serenity, just as it had once before.  His emotions faded into distant melancholy things, all sense of physical pain or exhaustion forgotten.  

Kuja blinked as the initial buzz faded, leaving him hovering above the shattered top floor of his Tower in a protective cocoon of destructive magic.  Looking upwards, his enhanced eyes easily saw through vapor, dust, and upper atmosphere to find a single starship orbiting the world. 

// This ends now. //

Even as he brought his hands together for the spell, feathers bending in the hot wind, he could feel the precious seconds slipping away.  

***** 

The Tower on the other side of the valley erupted in a noisy burst. Ibat squinted and shielded his eyes while trying to get a better look.  Half way up the escarpment leading to camp, he wished he was higher still annoyed that his view of the strange multi-tonal light show was blocked by the hills. His jeep pulled him higher, clearing the top of the mesa and he grabbed for his binoculars, amazed at the sight of the Tower still standing.  He had hit the monoliths with far less explosive in the past and had them shatter to pieces.  Somehow the bomb dropped from orbit must have missed its target. 

// An explosion that big can't have missed… //

The lights didn't fade completely, a brilliant sparkle hanging in midair above the familiar dark profile. He fiddled with the focus and then rubbed his eyes, uncertain what he was seeing.  A brilliant corona of yellow and red burned steadily amidst the smoke, at its center a shadow that was unmistakably man-shaped.  

// … Kuja…? It has to be… who else would be able to do something like that… // 

The hovering nimbus swirled and churned like a tiny sun, perfectly at ease with its defiance of gravity.  He blinked and realized it was growing brighter, a new light blooming to life and erupting outward in a series of wild streams, almost an exact parody of the missile trails falling earthwards.  They wailed, audible even thirty miles away, a high pitched cry of defiance as they zigged and zagged, climbing upwards and spreading out to deliberately chase down the slower moving enemy attack. The sky was lit up abruptly with a series of ground shaking explosions, the odd mix of yellow, red and strangely, ultraviolet.  

Someone pressed a radio into his hands, and not looking away from the amazing display of magic, he lifted it to better hear the shouting. "One at a time people. Ranking officer report?"

"This is Nazer, what the hell is going on? It looks like someone's set off fireworks or something…"

"… You're not going to believe this, boy, but I think its young master Kuja… The disturbance seems centralized on that Tower we were aiming to take, but I can't see anything clearly.  Someone would have to go over there and get a closer look to be certain."

"Kuja?!"

"Wait, something else is happening…" Everet, brought his binoculars back up, wincing as the light surrounding the distant body flared brighter a moment and then threw itself upwards.  "… where the hell is he going?" 

The trail of fire shot vertically up through the clouds and was gone from sight.  His second in command swore as it disappeared with a twinkle. "… he's taking the fight to /her/."

"That's impossible," he wondered aloud.  

"… Where's Gerrick?"

Everet blinked at the angry question, realizing that his student had deftly put his finger on the critical point.  If anyone would know what their little mage was up to, it was certainly his sour partner-in-crime. The man had been instructed to protect their magical wonder.  One way or another, he had directly disobeyed.  Everet reached forwards and tapped on his driver to get the man's attention. "Drive straight to the hospital. I want to check on Mister Kuja."

His aide spared him a doubtful look. "Yes sir, the hospital."

"And find me General Gerrick."  He added, slouching back further in his seat to study the distant clouds. The Net was still flickering, but now there were pale purple flashes in the heavy hanging rain clouds in contrast to the steady golden ropes of light.  He had a hunch that there would be no sign of the strange courtesan when he arrived at the medical tent.  All his instincts told him that the boy was long gone, although to where, he wasn't sure he believed.

***** 

"You. You are in charge of the men, get them back to camp and packing whatever can be for a quick retreat." Laro pointed peremptorily at one of his more experienced officers.

Catching another man's eye, he gestured that he was to go as well. "You too."  The men looked as though they wanted to disagree, but didn't dare.  He hopped forward into the front seat as it was vacated.

"Drive me to the Tower. Now."

"Sir?"  His aide glanced at him, obviously scared, but obediently putting the vehicle back in gear.  

"General, you don't have any weapons… at least take some gunners…" One of his commanders moved to signal one of the laser-carrying soldiers to step forward.

"No. No time." He vetoed the offer. "And the weight will slow us down. Let's go, man!" he scolded his driver.  

They veered off from the column in a plume of dust.  Running parallel to the advancing line of alien troops, the view was terrifying.  To his right the Selwe was marching across the plain, slowly following his fleeing troops.  With luck, his detour would be too insignificant for them to notice.  Knowing he was being unreasonable, Laro couldn't help but feel crushed by the sense of urgency.  If Masa really was there, he had to join him as quickly as possible.  It had to be a mistake, maybe Ibat was seeing things. Maybe it was some /other/ mage, but it wasn't very likely.  He closed his eyes and silently cursed the man. If Masa was in trouble, and he couldn't get there in time, he would never forgive himself.  

"Faster." He ordered as the small jeep tore across the flatlands.

In the distance behind him, came the familiar droning beat of dozens of Stingers in flight.

***** 

With his magic curled lovingly around him, Kuja could hardly feel the cold, despite his altitude.  Hanging at the very edge of the atmosphere, he looked back and silently appreciated the beauty of the young planet turning beneath him. Just like Gaia, it was certainly a little battered from its ordeal, but there was plenty of life left to heal the wounds.  A few centuries of care and peace, and it would return to being blue green and beautiful.  He smiled, asking it to be patient a little longer.  

In front of him lay the flattened oval that was the Selwe's final fortress. The level of technology would normally have impressed him deeply, but mid-Trance he could only muster a faint feeling of approval, and distant curiosity as to how it all worked.  He would probably never have time to find out.  

"It's time for you to land, my lady. Your journey is ended." 

There was no sound in space, no mix of gasses to transmit his voice beyond his little pocket of magic. Still, she heard him, realizing his location with a mix of surprise and dread.

_What _are_ you? _

"I was created to be an angel of death. A being able to exist outside of the rational world in order to bring about oblivion." Kuja smirked, able to feel something of his old amusement, even with his powers at maximum. "I was flawed however, and cast aside." 

_You have come to destroy us._

"No." He shook his head. "I have come to force you to land your vessel and choose life over death."

_Even on land, I have my army_.  The Queen pointed out brutally.  _Victory will still be mine._

"You underestimate me, lady."  Kuja looked down, able to see the massive swarm, even from orbit.  The sight was truly incredible, a black blur in the middle of the large eastern continent. "How much is your army worth to you?"

_They are tools_.  She couldn't conceal her worry. _They do my bidding._

"Will you mourn them, when they are gone?"

_Why should I? _

"I wonder that you undervalue the lives you create."  A flick of his fingers, and Ultima bloomed to life; growing and subdividing like a living thing as it branched from his hand and rained to earth.  

 The first impacts of the enormous spell began in the back half of the Selwe horde, explosions of molten white fading into crazed oranges and reds as everything targeted was eradicated.  Two more blossoms of destruction illuminated the continent, and the Selwe army was only half as strong as it had been.  Kuja silently apologized to the planet for inflicting such an injury, and raised his hand again.  Targeting the second half was more problematic, he didn't want to clip Laro's army by accident. 

"What do you say, my lady. Do you understand yet, what I am capable of?"

_… It is of no matter…_  The queen's voice was faint, stunned.  _They can be replaced._

"You fail to see the point." Kuja cast again, grimly hoping that he wasn't damning an entire race to its death.  Ultima screamed downward again, this time obeying his will and scouring along the surface in a painfully precise course, burning along the front edge of the army and creating mighty vortexes to crush its flanks before spending itself in the atmosphere.  Observing the effect, he conceded that the destruction was almost absolute, but just on the other side of the low mountains, Laro's camp seemed happily intact.  

He looked down at his hands, playfully spinning a final tendril of energy between his fingers. "All this time, you've been taking the cowardly way out… sending your Towers, your drones, your missiles… but never yourself, never your loved ones."

Kuja looked at the spaceship, wondering if even now, she would bother to understand what he was trying to say. "You never risked anything for your victory. It has always been just a chore for you, something to be taken care of by others, without feeling.  The people who live here… they have never had that luxury.  They have fought and died, and mourned every single one of their losses. They may be 'savage' as you say, but not one among them could watch me do what I have just done, and feel _nothing_. So now I think… it is your turn."  He held up the tame Ultima for her inspection.

"I could end this war now, and destroy you. But I worry it would be meaningless.  You would die, never having learned anything from your mistakes."

_Do it. _

"No."  Kuja could feel the first hint of cold, and tried not to be afraid that the Trance was wearing off. "I won't kill you. I may be giving up a chance to end this war today, but I think I was sent here for a reason, to pass along something that I learned… It probably doesn't matter in the end, if you listen to me. Whether you choose to continue fighting, or not, is up to you. But from now on, you'll have to face your enemies on equal footing. No more drones to do your dying for you."

It was a good thing that the final incarnation of Ultima needed to be far smaller than the others. He clung desperately to his control as he drove the tightly bundled comet of destruction through the main engines of the ship.  The alien vessel tottered in orbit and began to fall even as he did. 

Exhaustion flooded in as the Trance left him, a bone deep need for something that couldn't be classified as simply sleep, or sustenance. Plummeting backwards through the clouds, Kuja wearily marveled at the thousands of cheerful red and white feathers he left in his wake. Each floated silently on the air, spreading out in lazy whorls as they fell.  Weightless, care free, they shimmered in the fading sunlight like rubies and pearls. 

// Beautiful //

Magic was bleeding out of him faster than he could clutch at it. Kuja was hard pressed to care, more annoyed than anything at the buffeting pain of the wind as he descended.  Turning himself slowly in the air, he mourned the destroyed looking panorama beneath him. The smoking remains of the battlefield where the majority of the enemy had been burned away to nothing but ash.  

His velocity was starting to make him dizzy. 

Turning again in the air, a slave to the rushing stream around him, the last lingering filaments of the Net caught his eye.

// … maybe…? //

Not truly expecting anything, he reached, and found a distant crystal still transmitting. The power scalded him as he tapped into it, hurting even as it refilled the gaping emptiness left behind by his Trance.  Magic flowed readily to his hands, but the necessary focus to cast a spell was much slower in coming.  Weakly he tried a Float, and when it seemed to help, tried another.  The pressure on his head eased a little as he lost speed, allowing him to open his eyes and admire the cascade of red and white plumes that followed him down. 

// There are worse things… than to just dissolve into feathers… I think… Just, float away on the wind… //

He reached shaking hands up to comb them through his hair, freeing thousands more of the downy coverings to flutter free into the air.  Kuja laughed softly in delight at the way they drifted up and away with the wind of his passing.  Looking down again, he swallowed his fear. The ground was no longer some distant hypothetical, but a rapidly approaching reality. 

// I wonder, if the Queen's ship will be able to survive re-entry without their engine… I may have killed them all by dooming them to be smashed to bits on their way down. //

He cast Float again, a little more urgently than before. It did little to change the fact that he was about to collide with the Tower he had so recently vacated with bone crushing force. 

// Is that so bad? //

It would be a quick, if messy death. There was something definitely tempting about the idea.  Vanity would prefer to leave a pretty corpse behind, but it was a distant second to the simple practicality of an abrupt finish.

// What does fighting it get me? A few more weeks of decay?  A return to being cold all the time? A return to being trapped in a body that fails me? Why bother… //

Watching the distant specks resolve themselves into recognizable things; he was startled to recognize Gerrick's jeep. The man himself seemed to be crawling out from under it to stare upwards at him in awe.  He looked away, not wanting to know if the soldier recognized him.  There was another jeep, thoroughly battered, coming along the alien's main road to the Tower, driving with reckless speed as it raced to beat him to the monolith.  Kuja felt something in his chest tighten painfully, magic flaring from his hands, obedient to the choice he subconsciously made.

// Laro? //

The pain struck, turning everything to red-tinged-white, and foolishly he wondered if he had made the right choice after all. 

*****

He had known they were playing a dangerous game, trying to dodge around the front of the enemy before  the aliens could block his access to the Tower.  He hadn't realized just how dangerous it was until the entire valley shuddered with the shock of the first of the terrible attacks from space.  Laro was almost blinded by the first strike, staring at the blue-purple tendril of destruction as it collided with the back half of the Selwe army.  The shockwave of superheated wind that blew out from its arrival toppled several hundred rows of drones in all directions and incinerated the Stingers that had been stalking the jeep. Laro felt the skin on his face scorch as he tried to duck away and down, behind the safety of the vehicle's door.  His driver cursed and tried to do the same, steering blind as they tried to get away from the killing heat.  A second nightmarish rumble of explosion fell behind them, its shockwave less powerful but no less frightening.  The third set the already turbulent air to roaring, picking up the jeep and tossing it forwards like a toy.

// … shit! //

Somehow Laro tumbled clear of the jeep, hitting the dusty ground hard, but not fatally.  He shook his head, trying to get his bearings and tried to stand. His right leg wouldn't even consider it, informing him of its displeasure with a near crippling pain.  

//… broke something? //

It seemed a pretty safe bet that there was something wrong with his calf. He cursed and settled for crawling towards his tipped vehicle.  Passing the collapsed form of his driver, he paused to take the man's pulse, and cursed again, the young officer seemed to have died quickly at least. It was as much as anyone could hope for in recent years.  Laro closed the man's eyes and apologized for getting him involved in his hair-brained rescue attempt.  Luck was with him at least a little. He found his spear on the ground near the jeep and used it to pull himself upright. Surveying the area, he was glad they had already driven past the bulk of the army.  The weird white light continued to pick the Selwe force off from above the clouds, but now at least it was working further away from him.  

// Still. Why are they attacking their own? //

The radio was broken, eliminating his ability to ask Ibat if the old man could see more than he did.  It took three tries to rock the poor jeep back onto its tires again. Gettiing leverage with only one leg working properly wasn't easy.  Laro crawled into the driver's seat and grimly wiped the blood from the broken windshield.  The air was thick with dust and smoke, strong winds fought against the choking atmosphere, forcing the grit away.  He had a momentary glimpse of the dark outline of his destination, and laughed as the sturdy truck came back to life with a turn of the key.

// Come on, kitten, don't do anything stupid… //

Clumsily driving with his good foot, he bounced down the remains of the road, glad his rearview mirrors were gone. He didn't want to see the chaotic energy chewing through the remains of the alien army behind him.  The flashes of light died off just as abruptly as they had started.  He dared a glance behind but was unable to see anything more than smoke.  Keeping his eyes on his goal instead, he blinked as something twinkled brilliantly in the patch of relatively-dust free sky over the Tower.  

// Another missile? //

This light seemed far smaller than the others. Descending through the air with no particular purpose, it flickered and glimmered faintly as it fell. 

He kept an eye on it as he drove, worried that it would explode as the others had on landfall. The fact that it was heading to the same place he wanted to be only made him more anxious, torn between holding back and letting it strike while he was still safely far away, and getting there first to warn anyone in its way.

// If Kuja is really in the Tower… and he took out the other missiles… surely he'd be aware of this one? //

Given the cat-man's poor luck with the previous bomb he had survived, Laro wasn't willing to stand idly by.  Depressing the accelerator for all he was worth, he was still too far away.  The strange glittering projectile hit the top floor of the Tower with a colorful explosion shattering the black monolith down to it's very foundation, sending debris raining down in every direction.  Laro ducked several fist-sized rocks that threatened to mash into him and swerved to miss a large chunk of wall.  Peering through the smoky distance he could have sworn he saw headlights.

***** 

// I must be completely out of my mind. //

Clay did the exact opposite of common sense as the dust cloud lifted, gunning his jeep back towards the still smoking wreckage of the Tower.  He had promised after all.  He hadn't really expected things to get quite so dramatic, but he had promised to at least make an attempt to pick through the rubble for the courtesan.  Then again --Clay coughed at a particularly acrid cloud of smoke-- Kuja hadn't exactly told him it was worth the trouble.   Cursing his folly, he drove as close as he could and then jumped out and tried to walk.  The polished rock was scalding hot, even through boots and gloves. 

"Kuja?"

// No one could have survived that, why bother to pretend? //

Slipping over a pile of shattered flooring, he peered through the dust only to have a large _something_ flutter past his eyes. Worried that it might be some fiery debris he swatted it away and then recognizing it, snatched it out of the air.  The elegant red feather was horribly out of place in the middle of the ruin.

// Hello… where did you come from…? //

A loud clatter of shifting rocks distracted him from the rare find, reminding him that the Tower was still collapsing into its final component parts.  He really didn't want to be caught under one of the massive pieces of plating.  Looking up to get a better understanding of the relative stability of the area, he caught sight of someone gingerly picking their way through the ruins from the other side. Smoke swirled away and revealed Nazer, leaning heavily on his spear. 

"….kuja?"  His faint call was not entirely hopeful.  

// How the hell did he know to come here? //  Clay glanced upwards, realizing that the mage's pyrotechnics had probably been one hell of a beacon for everyone in the field.  Who else, after all, could have pulled a lunatic stunt of this size? 

// Not like we have mages of his caliber just popping up all over… most of the new ones seem to get in trouble just figuring out how to boil water… //

Clay cupped his hands to his mouth, hoping to magnify his horse shout enough to be heard over the groaning and cracking ruins. "Hey! Over Here!"

Another feather flitted down, settling on his raised hands. He stared at the white bit of fluff in confusion, realizing that there were more of them now, settling softly on the wreckage just ahead.

// … masa kuja …// 

For the first time in months, he was reminded that the name really was nothing more than a play on words.  Their enigmatic mage seemed to possess by chance the same name as a fallen avatar.  

// But he was called 'Kuja' from the beginning… we just didn't know it… //

If it turned out that his argumentative friend had somehow sprouted swan wings, he wasn't sure how well he'd cope.  Religion had never been his strong point.

// First, just find the damn man. //

"… Gerrick? What the hell are you doing here?"

He was glad to note that Nazer-kai was too busy trying to navigate the rocks with a bad leg to have the strength to go for his throat immediately.  Clay smiled grim welcome. "No time. Help me find him."

"He's here?"  The general's eyes betrayed his fear.

"Didn't you see him land?" He asked, amazed anyone had missed it. "The guy just split this thing down the middle… I think he was trying to break his fall."

"That was Masa?!"

Clay nodded, bemused by the falling feathers again. Holding out his hand he let one of the scarlet plumes settle on his palm. "… This must be his doing too, although hell if I know why."

"Out of my way."  He let the general push past him, following closely as they felt their way through the rubble.

***** 

"What the hell were you, bringing him here!"  Laro couldn't help but snarl as he banged his bad leg against a rock. 

 The urge to haul back and punch the younger officer was strong, but required more effort than the man deserved at the moment.  Gerrick would be around later, if he still felt the need to kick him into next year, he wasn't so sure that Masa could wait.

"Don't you dare get sanctimonious with me Nazer, I was under orders! I don't give a damn whether you are angry or not. It was never up to you to decide when and how Kuja would fight!" Gerrick expression was just as wild as his own must be. For the first time, he noticed the heavy soot smears covering the man's clothing, fingers bloodied from their efforts in shifting the crushed rubble.  He rested a minute against a broken bit of wall, giving the soldier an exasperated look.

"… If not me… then who?"

"He made up his own mind about it. Of course." The officer scrubbed at the back of his head in tired acceptance. "Just pushed and pushed and pushed until we finally agreed."  

"Oh."

Dust was everywhere, as was a generous fall of brilliant crimson feathers.  Looking up, he watched as more of the rare plumes curled and wafted earthwards on the breeze. Laro blanked out on the actual moment of finding Masa's sprawled form. Hobbling around a tilted slab of flooring, he glimpsed a pale arm outstretched on a bed of more of the exotic feathers and the next thing he was aware of was the incredible pain in his leg as he knelt in the rubble next to the cat-man's body.  At first it seemed impossible that the man could still be alive.  Laid out in the center of the wreckage like a broken doll, covered in little more than rags and loose feathers, Kuja didn't respond to his name.

Gerrick slid down next to him, barely avoiding triggering a small landslide of masonry as he too came to rest amid the feathers. "Shit, he's still alive, isn't he? Poor bastard."

"Shut up!"  He didn't have the energy to put up with the younger officer's cynicism.  How anyone could be so callous in the face of such a nightmare was beyond his understanding. "… He won't die… He can't…"

Kuja's eyes opened a fraction, staring up at the clouds a moment before blinking slowly and focusing on him. His pale lips moved, forming words that had no breath behind them. 

"I'm sorry, kitten, I don't understand…" Laro stroked some of the silvery hair away from the mage's face, cursing when his fingers came away bloody. "Save your strength now, we'll have you back in camp as soon as we can."

"… /how/…?"

It took two breaths before he felt confident that he could look at Gerrick without wanting to rip the man apart.  He kept his words to a minimum. "Go find something we can use as a stretcher."

"We shouldn't move him at all." The man disagreed. "He may have a broken spine."

"He won't get any better laying around here!"  The measuring look Gerrick gave him left him feeling cold. "What?"

"… you are so fucking selfish."

"Selfish!"

"Look at him, Nazer." Gerrick gestured down. "Really. Look. Knowing what we know, that there is no cure for him, do you honestly want to force him to linger?"

"I…"  There was no question, Masa was in pain. Every shallow breath he managed rattled his lungs, and caused precious blood to drip from his nose and mouth. Bruising hinted at other severe problems beneath the skin.  With the feathers everywhere, his lover reminded him of nothing more than a broken winged bird, smashed to earth.

// … This would have been what happened that first time too, except he was over the ocean.... //

Laro could remember the strange storm, his aborted suicide, and the way Masa had crashed into the sea as well as if it had only happened days ago.   Strange to think they had come so far only to end up back where they had begun. "… I don't know. I don't know that anyone can force him to do something if his heart is set against it.  All I know is I have to try.  You know?"

He cradled Masa's face in his hand, wishing he knew what the mage wanted. "If he survived _that_ all I can assume, is that he did because he wanted to live… at least a little. I won't do anything to take that decision away from him."

"You're both crazy." Gerrick sighed and stood. "Wait here, I'll see what I can find. Maybe the radio will start working again and we can call for help."

"Thanks." 

Masa was watching him quietly, half-aware of him as he lay preoccupied with the simple act of breathing.  Delicate fingers curled against the bed of feathers.  Laro reached and plucked one of the lustrous red feathers out of his lover's hair, marveling at it.  More drifted down from the sky with every passing minute.

"Be patient while longer, kitten.  I'll make things right again. I promise."

***** 

***** 

-- today's vocab phrase:  'Gunship Diplomacy'

Lunar


	25. Spread your WIngs upon the Wind

Feather Flight:  Spread your Wings upon the Wind (part 25) 

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

***** 

***** 

Air surrounded him, buffeting his face and chest, threatening to rip his jacket off his body, his weapon from his hands.  Laro blinked back the tears his eyes were producing in self-defense, and tried to figure out what had just happened.  He remembered the long, windy trip over the sea, he and his companions hunched down against the deck of the hover-plate to try and avoid being blown off as it flew. He remembered shaking Finlay's hand in farewell as she and the other human delegates waited next to the young Queen.  The metal platform he had been bid to stand on had echoed oddly beneath his feet, even the Mentor at his side seemed uncomfortable, bracing for the unknown. Then there was a whining sound, a loud complaint of straining technology filling the air.  Arcs of electricity had surrounded them, blocking the world from view with weird twisting light.

Then there was nothing, a weird empty moment where everything recognizable was suddenly gone.  

He hadn't felt alone in the darkness. There had been something there with him, a presence filled with incredible understanding, and compassion. Laro remembered closing his eyes and drinking in the comforting feeling, daring to allow himself to relax for the first time in weeks. It lifted the exhaustion from his mind, eased the ache in his leg, and then it too was gone, snatched away in a second burst of light, and a roar of wind.

He was falling. 

Laro gasped in amazement, sound snatched from his lips by the wind. Beneath him was a wide expanse of sparkling blue. The color so pure and perfect it almost took his breath away. Plunging downwards in a way fit to make him giddy, he had the brief clarity to compare the shade of color to Masa's eyes, then the reality of his situation sunk in. 

He was mid-air, and rapidly falling.  

The ocean's surface beckoned him down.

// At least I'm not /that/ high up… maybe four hundred feet? //

High enough to have time to contemplate how much hitting the water would hurt, low enough that he'd probably survive the landing long enough to feel the pain. If he didn't knock himself out and drown on impact that was.

// It's just like how Masa arrived on our world! //  He tried to focus on the area beneath him. // Except this time the weather is better. //

Tumbling through the air as he dropped, he was distracted from imminent disaster by the sight of a large green, brown, and white mass off to his left a little ways. Trying to orient himself in the air, he caught another glimpse. His brain processed the flash of scenery as land, coast, City, in roughly that order. 

It was a rather big city.

The tiny corner of Laro's mind that wasn't pressingly occupied with worrying about imminent impact decided it was rather impressed by it.  

He raised his free arm up over his face, curling his body into a fetal ball and getting ready to let go of his spear before he crashed. 

// Don't want to break my arm by holding onto it after I hit the water. //  

Laro wondered why that particular peril was the one he was most worried about as the smell of seawater filled his nose. Wincing, he could do nothing more than brace for the splash.

- - - - - - - - - - 

- - - - - - - - - - 

Everyone had taken to talking in a hush around Kuja's bedside. Laro accepted the tea offered to him with a whispered, "Thank you," and then wondered why he bothered.  It wasn't like Masa was going to wake up and complain about the noise.  Sipping the hot fluid, he gingerly shifted his leg, cast itching against his skin, and reached out with his free hand to cover Masa's cool fingers.  

The mage looked at peace at the moment.  He had little doubt that it was because Masa's 'sleep' was far closer to a true coma than to any actual restful state. Held together with little more than stubborn pride on behalf of Doctor Ing, and the newly trained magical efforts of half a dozen former soldiers, Kuja hovered in an odd sort of trance. He was neither able to recover, nor allowed to grow worse so long as others kept vigil around him.  With the alien army generally obliterated, most people were willing to consider the elaborate life prolonging measures to be worth it.  It was hard to deny anything to the man who had just saved the world. How the man /himself/ felt about the situation however, was a complete mystery.  Too drained of life to do more than silently watch those around him between day-long naps, Kuja seemed resigned to his fate.

Not for the first time in the week since Masa's victory, Laro wondered if maybe he had made the wrong decision after all.  Gerrick's words haunted him, blurring into a vicious cycle until all he could hear was the faint cry of 'selfish' echoing in the back of his mind.  It was with him when he woke up, and had kept him company during the long hours sitting beside Kuja's bed. 

"Am I selfish, kitten?  I don't know anymore."  

He squeezed the limp fingers gently, trying hard not to bruise the translucent skin, but wanting to offer some warmth just the same.  

Kuja's face was partly obscured by an ugly-but-functional set of canvas hoses. Designed to pipe a specially enriched sort of air for the man to breathe, they were Ing's current pride and joy. The doctor called it a masterpiece of old technology being reapplied now that engineers were no longer dedicated solely to building war machines. Somewhere downstairs there was a small motor and some other apparatus that created the flow of air. Laro had watched it all being set up but still didn't understand exactly what was so special about it.  All he knew was that any sort of open flame was expressly forbidden within several yards of Kuja's door, and that somehow it /was/ helping his lover breath a little easier.   

 Too stupid to help, to stubborn to leave, Laro sat and worried, cradling one of Masa's tiny hands in his, trying to interpret the tired looks the mage gave him when he found the strength to stay awake.  Any particular allegiance he had felt to his army had crumpled as soon as he had discovered Kuja among the ruins.  Ibat and Gerrick seemed to have things in hand, completing the mop-up and securing a growing perimeter of human-controlled land.  They met minimal resistance, their reports still sharing a rather bemused tone about the whole situation.  After thirty years of fighting, it still seemed strange to realize that it was over.  

"Well, kitten, I can give you the latest news, if nothing else. Yeah?"  

He shifted so he could lean against the mattress a little, as close as he dared to get to the delicate body propped against the pillows. "The alien ship has definitely landed somewhere, although whether it crashed into the ocean or made it to the southern continent, it's impossible to say. They haven't found the Mentor yet either.  Who knows, maybe it thinks it can hatch more eggs and get the better of us again.  Ibat is mounting an expedition to the south to investigate what's left along the coast.  Gerrick is taking his men across the middle of the wasteland to see if there's anything salvageable from some of the larger ruins.  It's weird to think that there used to be a whole country there, in the desert." 

Laro shook his head. "But that was before it was a desert. Years ago now. Probably he'll find nothing but rubble and bones, but they think it's worth a chance."   

He didn't know why he was talking about Gerrick. He didn't even want to think about him. It only served to remind him of Kuja's weakness, his own cowardice, and the grim certainty that his lover was suffering needlessly. Selfish, he wondered if it was true. No one else had called him that. No one had questioned the rightness of keeping Masa's failing body alive against all natural flow. 

Then again, he morbidly thought, they were the same people who were so blinded by their hero worship of him years ago that they would have happily thrown him back to the front after his imprisonment among the aliens, if his body had been able to bear the strain.  The ethical rightness of forcing a man to fight who couldn't even sleep three hours without nightmares had never occurred to them.  Laro shook his head. Ing at least wouldn't allow blind faith to sway him. He hadn't before, he wouldn't now. If the doctor truly felt there was no hope, surely he'd say something.

// Wouldn't he? //

Sitting with only his questions to keep him company, Laro paid no attention as people shuffled in and out of the quiet little room. Ignoring the castle and city around him in favor of one slim-fingered hand, and the life he wished he could impart into it.  

"Sir?"  A young soldier cleared his throat softly from his position by the door.

"What is it?"

"There's an urgent message from the front, great kai. Duke Riquoi requests your presence in the state room immediately."

Laro considered his options for a long moment, not particularly caring about how his delay caused the younger man to shuffle his feet nervously.  Masa didn't stir however, and probably wouldn't for several hours yet.  There was time, if he felt like it, to go see what the politicians wanted.  Reaching for his cane with a sigh, Laro stood tentatively on his half-healed leg and waved that the officer should precede him out of the room.  It would take another visit or two with the newly-trained healers before their fledgling magic would finish knitting the bones together.

***** 

Ibat stared at the dead husk of a drone a while before nudging it thoughtfully with his boot.  This one hadn't died from the bombardment, or from any other conventional weapon. Scorched, surely, but otherwise unmarked; it had died of natural causes.

"Dehydration?"  He looked to his officers for confirmation. One of them nodded, equally curious about the unusual corpse. 

It was the third such body they had found so far that morning.  The drones had apparently trundled their way along until they could go no further, dropping in their tracks rather than deviate from their course.  Ibat climbed back into his truck and frowned as he waved the convoy ahead. As worrisome as the aliens were when alive, he found the idea of them death-marching towards the shore to be even more disturbing.  He leaned forwards to tap his radio-man on the shoulder. "Tell the scout units, not to kill anything, if they find one still alive. I don't think whatever is left out here will give us too much trouble."

"Sir?"

"I'm just thinking, what if they're walking themselves to death because of us?"  Speaking more to himself than to the other riders in the vehicle, the old general slouched back into his seat.  "Are they even smart enough to fear their deaths? Or is this some sort of automatic response they have once their leaders are gone?"

"I don't know sir."  Confused, his officer stared back at him. "They're bugs, what does it matter?"

"I'm not sure yet that it does." Ibat replied, chewing on his mustache. "I just don't want to rule out the possibility that it might. That's all."

"Yes sir."

"Sir!" A second vehicle raced back down the path, dodging the convoy as it swerved to pull up along side him. "We've found it, sir. Decided it was too risky to use radios, since we're almost right on top of it, so we doubled back to get you instead."

"Found it?"  Ibat confirmed, sitting up abruptly. "Tell all units to stop and fan out immediately. I want a nice quiet setup, no itchy trigger fingers."  Looking back at the scout, he rubbed his chin. "Where is it, precisely?"

"The ruined Tower, sir. On the other side of the valley.  It's sorta huddled at the center of the rocks. We think it has a shard."

"Any sign of aggression?"

The officer shook his head, fidgeting with his goggles in his hands. "No sir, it was just sitting there." Hesitantly he shrugged, "It looks sorta tired, I think."

"Tired?"

"Hard to say, sir, but yes." 

"Interesting." Ibat rubbed his face again, wondering what his plan would be. A glance to his left gave him just the person he wanted to see. "Sergeant, dig through our supplies and find me some water, some sugar, and the large net."

"Yes sir." The man was too disciplined to show his surprise at the request, saluting and disappearing back into the mass of vehicles stretched out behind him.  Ibat hopped out of his jeep, taking a moment to stretch his tired muscles. 

"Well gentlemen, who feels like going for a walk?"

***** 

Laro didn't know what was more alarming, the news that the alien general had been found, or the fact that Ibat had gotten the hair-brained idea of trying to capture it and had sent it home as a souvenir.  The old man had apparently deduced some way of restraining and feeding the Mentor long enough for it to arrive safely, but what the council, and what /he/, dearly wanted to know was what they were supposed to do with the two-and-a half-meter tall bug when it arrived. 

Having it executed on the spot for war-crimes seemed a popular idea. Laro wasn't sure he disagreed.  Finlay and the other more levelheaded members of court were all for trying to communicate with it, learn what they could from the surviving alien intelligence.  The only thing Laro really wanted to ask about was where were the others, and if they were still planning to fight.  He didn't want to be called back to the field for a third time if he could help it, but he didn't see how listening to an alien bug hiss and click at him would provide the answers he wanted.  

Still, it looked as though the Dean was to get her wish.  The Mentor would be property of the college until it died, or they got bored and vivisected it for further study.  Hobbling back through the halls to the quiet hospital wing, he tried to convince himself that he wouldn't take any further part in the alien's affairs.

***** 

"What do you mean it's not secured?!" Clay's summons home had been abrupt, forcing him to turn over command to his officers and endure a hellish drive back across the flatlands to the capital.  The news waiting for him when he got there almost made his suffering worth the effort.  An alien general arriving as prisoner of war, and /he/ was nominally responsible for the duration of its stay? 

It was unthinkable.  

Clay immediately saw why they had called him back. It wasn't exactly a task he would have trusted General Nazer with, even if the man had been willing to volunteer for the duty.  Still, three days was hardly enough time to get himself dusted off from his trip, much less prepare for an undertaking of this magnitude. The security issues alone left him with a prolonged headache.  There were problems in making sure the alien had no access to innocent bystanders. There were further problems in making sure that not-so-innocent bystanders didn't have access to the alien.  

The news that the large bug had apparently been traveling across country with its escort completely unfettered, playing its part as tamely as a lamb, only added an additional measure of surrealism to the whole affair.

 // Treating a Selwe as a high-security 'guest' of the state? Oh, great, as if I wasn't on Nazer's shit-list already. Now I'll be labeled a bug-lover as well. //

He still wasn't entirely sure what Kuja had put in his written-instructions to the man before they had departed to take on the army.   There must have been multiple letters in fact, because both the Duke and Dean Finlay had commented in passing about them when debriefing him.  Apparently the mage's powers of persuasion were just as potent in text as they were in his speech because while Nazer-kai still /looked/ murder at him when he walked by, he didn't act on the impulse. Everyone else, surprisingly, had even gone so far as to congratulate him for choosing correctly in the face of adversity.  Given that Clay had expected to be accused of treason and gross negligence upon returning to the army with Kuja barely breathing in the back of his jeep, he felt that so far things had gone rather well. 

He didn't kid himself into thinking that he was free and clear however. One misstep and those carefully balanced opinions about him would waiver again, leaving him facing an angry mob.  He had immediately opted for a return to the field when his chance had come, determined to keep his head down and not do anything controversial.  The only problem was that now he was back in the city, about to do something very controversial indeed.

// Babysitting an alien. May god have mercy.  I might as well paint a target on my chest. //

Standing on the empty road outside the capital, he watched as the distant convoy rumbled closer. A custom-built, armored car rolled along in the center of the group.

He waved them to a halt and followed his escort around to the back of the bulky vehicle, trying to conceal his nerves at the casual way the young man opened the double doors to let him get a closer look.   Bedded down on straw and blankets for the ride, an enormous inky green-black insect lifted its head as if interested in his arrival. Clay found it hard to tell if he was the focus of the alien's attentions. Its face, dominated by large compound eyes and a complex set of mandibles, wasn't expressive by any standards.

"See? It's really docile." Whistling as if to a dog, the security officer produced an apple from his bag and rolled it along the straw floor until it came to a stop against one of the massively-armored forearms.  Given that the bug had six limbs in total, Clay wondered if it was correct to call any of them arms at all.  It seemed to make sense however when he watched the way the creature shifted its weight and picked up the shiny fruit. Its three-fingered 'hand' moved delicately despite the claws, and once the offering was inspected, the alien seemed happy to settle down and eat.

"What else do you feed it?" Clay felt morbidly curious, reminded of grasshoppers as he watched the mandibles carve into the soft fruit.

His grim tone made the more experienced officer laugh. "Fruit mostly, some refined sugar, a lot of water-soaked bread.  We've been offering it a bit of everything, and letting it figure out what it does and doesn't like."

"Fun." Clay replied. "Are those wings still functional?"

"Probably. It hasn't seemed all that interested in trying to use them though." The man pointed to the lump in the back half of the truck. "The only time it gets fussy at all is if you try and take its Shard away.  It won't let the crystal out of its sight."

Remembering how Kuja had been much the same towards the end of his stay with the army, Clay couldn't say he was surprised. Everything seemed tied back to the crystals in the end. Information, power, whatever it was they provided, the Selwe seemed lost without it.  He stuffed his hands in his pockets and nodded at his men to close the door softly on their new guest. "Right. I'll keep that in mind. Bug requires its pet-rock in order to be well behaved. Anything else?"

"That's about it." The soldier shrugged, copying his movement. "Oh, wait, one more thing! I almost forgot. It can talk!"

"Excuse me?!" 

"Not much!" The soldier held up his hands defensively at the alarmed look on Clay's face. "I mean, we think it was trying to speak to us a few times, in the last couple of days. It hisses a lot at the crystal, but then randomly it came right up to Lt. Peters two nights ago and almost sounded like it was saying something."

Clay refused to shout again, forcing himself to be calm as possible given the unwanted surprise of the afternoon. "And what exactly do you think it was saying?"

"Well, the way the lieutenant tells it, sir, the bug was trying to say 'Kuja'."

"Oh."

Somehow, Clay realized, it all made perfect sense.

***** 

Laro had ignored summons when the 'envoy' had arrived, had tried hard to put the whole idea of the alien's existence from his mind.  It had been a little surprising how successfully he had avoided having to participate in the odd pantomime that the Dean and her colleagues were attempting with the insect-like creature.  The rumors that it could speak seemed sadly exaggerated, the sum and total of its vocabulary was one alarming word.  As to what its daily discourse was with its shard consisted of, no one could decipher.  Worried about Kuja's fragile health, he had refused to allow any news of the creature's arrival to intrude on the mage's quiet sanctuary. 

It was therefore just one last grim betrayal when he limped into Masa's room a few days later and found a small committee's worth of people surrounding the bed.  The large alien, clutching its shard to what passed for its chest, wasn't uniquely familiar, but its appearance was close enough to the ones Laro had encountered before to make him recoil in alarm. 

"What the hell is that thing doing here?" He looked around, noting that very few dared to look him in the eye. "What the hell are any of you doing here? Go conduct your experiments in the labs!"

"We thought it best, to see how the alien would react to actually seeing Kuja."  The elderly duke alone stood firm under his glare. "It seems our guest is most single-minded about things, and it is possible, that Mr. Kuja might respond to the shard as he has in the past."

"Enough."  Laro shook his head in disbelief. "Do you plan to use Masa until there is nothing left at all? Why can't you just leave him be?"

"Do you think that's what he wants?"

Wishing he could hit the old man wouldn't accomplish anything.  Just being in the same room as the spindly alien made his flesh crawl, the idea of allowing it to get close enough to harm Masa in any way was monstrous.  Looking around for allies, he found Ing among the crowd. "You would allow this?"

"At this point?" The doctor shrugged gently. "We can prolong his life, but what next? If contact with the aliens can help us, then it should be attempted. Kuja wanted the war to end, Nazer. I believe that if he can help us to communicate with them at last, then he will feel it worth the effort."

"We won't let anything happen to Mr. Kuja, general."  Laro stared in disbelief at the source of the comment.  Gerrick stood next to the hard-shelled Selwe intruder, the pair of them equally unwelcome in their own ways.  It was futile.  He could disagree all he wanted, but in the end, he and Masa were both at their mercy.  Cursing his uselessness, Laro slouched against the wall and held his tongue.  Where Kuja was involved, it seemed he never anything but in the way.

The large insect - silent through their frantic arguments- stepped forward as a path was cleared to the bed. Its movements were almost dainty.  Seeming to know exactly what was expected, it placed the large chunk of crystal on the bed next to Kuja's exposed hand, nudging it closer. The milky stone cracked with energy on contact with the mage's skin.  Ceasing all movement, the Selwe stood frozen in place, bathed in the strange lights along with the rest of the room.  

Laro watched Kuja's face closely, hoping he'd notice any sign of distress before the damage could be done.  He was the first to note therefore, when the man's eyes opened, obviously surprised.  Looking down at his hand, and then up at the alien at his side, Kuja frowned slightly, lips moving as if to speak to his unlikely petitioner.  For a moment, Laro swore he could hear a whispered question, and then jumped to realize that he /was/ hearing a voice after all.

"… Fascinating."  The breathy voice was coming from the alien, but the inflection was familiar.

"Masa?"  He stood up a little, moving closer. "Is that you?"

"Yes, for the moment."  The insect was still oddly frozen, its mandibles moving to form the incongruously human speech. "Our Mentor is being kind enough to allow me to borrow his voice a while in exchange for a portion of my fluency."

The others stepped forwards, questions piling over each other, but the Mentor hissed loudly. Resuming its whispering once it was quiet enough to do so; it conveyed Masa's words again. "One at a time. This isn't exactly the easiest thing to do.  My stamina is limited."

"Sorry."  Dean Finlay apologized for the others. "Can you understand the alien's thoughts? Can you ask it about the others? Are there more Selwe still alive?"

"Yes."  Kuja's whisper was almost thoughtful as he communed with the Shard. "And yes.  Although it seems they have had some difficulties. The ship landed successfully, but their Queen is dead."

"Dead?"  Gerrick spoke up, curious. "That's good isn't it? They'll be weak without a leader."

"No, there is a new Queen. Hives always have a few spares." Kuja disagreed. "It seems that the old queen's death was ritualistic.  She took her own life after her defeat.  This way honor is satisfied, and the new Queen can offer surrender without shame."

Laro felt his lover's disappointment, and wondered at it.  Surely it didn't matter whether one more alien was dead or not after the destruction dealt to both sides.  "You can speak with her?"

"Yes. The crystals are still intact in a few places. Not strong enough to sustain the Net, but still good for transmission."

"What is her intention?"  

"Survival." The mentor's whisper faded as Kuja was distracted once more. "She seems upset that I am not well enough to allow my accepting her surrender in person."  

The voice might be coming from another, but the eyes that focused on Laro were very much Masa's. "Please stop killing the drones. She would like to send a vessel to retrieve her remaining soldiers. They will be evacuated back to her hive on the southern continent."

"Will they stay there?"  He hated to ask the blunt question.

"She gives her word."  Masa offered a tired smile. "She can be trusted in this."  Shifting his eyes to the alien, the mage focused his thoughts again on a distant conversation.  "The Queen wishes to send us another one such as this, to be my voice until I am well again. I have explained that the gesture is unnecessary, but she is quite determined. She asks that her servant be allowed to arrive unharmed."

"We'll do our best." Gerrick murmured, looking doubtful. 

"That's all I can ask."  The mentor's whisper faded again. This time Kuja closed his eyes as well. "I'm so tired."

Moving jerkily, as if stiff from standing still so long, the alien suddenly came back to life. It lifted the shard free of the sheets and shuffled back a little. 

"Hey!" Gerrick complained. "We were still talking to him!"

"He is too tired to communicate."  The words were clear, but the tone was far more mechanical than before.  Laro blinked, feeling the difference immediately. The Selwe continued to back away from the bed until it resumed its previous position in the corner of the room.  "He asked to be allowed rest until his attention is required again."  

Massive compound eyes studied the room at large. "He asks that only the one called Laro stay. He said the rest of you are unnecessary."

"When did you get so chatty?"  Gerrick looked up at his some-time prisoner in amazement. 

"Kuja was able to teach us a portion of your language when he borrowed my voice."

"Neat trick." The dean mused as she stuck an unlit cigar in her mouth to chew on. "Does it work both ways?"

Considering her question, the insect managed to look confused. "I do not think you have the correct anatomy for our language."

"Hmmm." She glanced down at the bed.  "Well it seems we've been dismissed. Shall we take this out side, gentlemen and bug? I for one would like to smoke."  

Claiming his chair as the others filed out, Laro shook his head, not interested in hearing anymore.  If Masa wanted him to keep him company, it was the least he could do.  The silence that stretched through the afternoon was soothing after the shocks of the morning. It gave him plenty of time to think as he watched the sunlight fade with the hours. He wondered what the aliens were thinking.  It seemed strange that they were the ones making the most aggressive overtures for a treaty.  He was glad they were.  Human technology wasn't good enough to get any sort of message across the ocean in a timely manner.  Sailing a ship to the south continent and back would have taken months.  Laro couldn't imagine waiting that long to find out if the war was over or merely just delayed.  Still, he wondered if they really intended to stay quietly where they were.

// Masa must have had one hell of a conversation with them, to get them to change their mind like that. // 

"So it is to be peace after all?" He mused aloud, watching as Masa slept.  "Just like that."  Considering how it had all come to pass, Laro acknowledged that it wasn't like the aliens had much of a choice.  Kuja had effectively leveled the playing field, both literally and metaphorically. 

// All part of his plan, I wonder. But what now? Was this part of his plan too? //

"I wish I knew why."  Laro murmured, feeling drained of hope. "I'll stay with you as long as you want me, but I wish I knew why you are always so willing to sacrifice yourself."

Looking at his hands, he found words for something he had been feeling every since finding Kuja after the Digger's attack.  "You can manage to take care of everyone, but never yourself. It hurts, you know? It hurts that we can never help you in return."

Looking up he was surprised to see that Masa's eyes were open a fraction, watching him sadly. He didn't need to hear a voice to guess the man's answer to his complaint. "But you don't want us to help you, do you. You feel you deserve this?"  Angry, furious really, he looked away before he gave into the urge to shake the limp body until the mage came to his senses. "Idiot. Play martyr if that's what you want, but I still haven't given up."

There was no reply to his declaration. Even if Masa had wanted to, he lacked the strength to speak. Blue eyes closed again, shutting him out as the man drifted once more. 

***** 

The first time Clay had heard the outrageous idea he had laughed aloud. Even on the second try, he fought the urge to chuckle at the absurdity of it all. The fact that most of the doctors and now /two/ aliens were discussing it as a serious possibility only made it more bizarre.  How Ing had coaxed the reluctant Nazer away from his lover's deathbed long enough to sit in on this latest meeting was a wonder, but the man's stunned expression was well worth it.

"The Selwe have a very interesting proposal concerning out Mr. Kuja," the dean began. 

Nazer looked blankly at the pair of insects. "They do?"

"It is an unusual option, but one I feel might be worth the danger, especially considering that nothing we have tried seems to be working."

"What exactly do they want to do?"  The general looked grimly curious.

"Well, if the cure to Mr. Kuja's illness can't be found here. They propose that we might have better luck investigating it at its source."  Dean Finlay sat back meditatively. "They feel confident that they have the technology to be able to retrace Kuja's path to this world, and send an expedition to that place, but only a very small one."

The dark man digested the information slowly. Clay couldn't blame him. Up until the aliens had arrived, no one had ever considered that there might be other worlds with life on them. Now they were being told they too could cross between the stars? It was preposterous.  

"How? In a ship?"  Nazer frowned. "Even if they could, how would they know what to look for when the arrived at his home-world? How long would it take? Why would they even want to bother?"

The newer arrival of the two heart-faced insects spoke up first. "It is imperative that Kuja survive."

"Without Kuja, surrender is meaningless." The original envoy whispered in agreement.

"We cannot accept defeat to one who is dead." The smaller insect continued. "If you were a hive, then we could surrender to the successor, but Kuja is an individual, therefore he is the only acceptable candidate.  We do not want war to continue, we wish to surrender, therefore Kuja must survive long enough to personally accept the Queen's proposal."

"What if Kuja simply names a successor?" One of the many doctors countered, "Wouldn't that be enough?"

"We have never surrendered to an individual before."  The soft-spoken alien shook its head in very human gesture.  Their ability to learn was remarkable. "The Queen is worried about setting a good precedent."

"But still, if the mission to find a cure fails-"

"If there is no alternative, the Queen will accept an alternate candidate of equal standing. Do you have one prepared?"

Clay smothered another chuckle at the alarmed looks the others shared. Nazer also seemed to be smiling humorlessly at the question.  "It will be difficult to find someone like Kuja."

"Exactly." The insect hissed with worry. "Kuja, while fighting for you, was not one of you. He is from elsewhere, like us. The question of surrender becomes complex."

"He was one of us." Nazer disagreed quietly. "Where ever he came from, he never had any intention of going back." Sighing, the general leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees. "We will find an acceptable substitute if we must. But I too would prefer that Kuja be able to accept your offer in person."

"We propose a joint-expedition." The aliens shared a look and nodded before continuing. "It would require you to select a scout to travel to our mothership, and from there be transported off-world."

"Just one?"  The dean confirmed, startled by the new piece of information. "I thought we'd be sending a group!"

"The inter-space transport can only carry two." Gesturing with one of its hands, the alien general hushed them all. "It is a special technology meant for use by Queen and consort when escape is only option.  If travel is successful, it will be instantaneous."

"Oh."  

"Failure would also be instantaneous."  The insect offered unhelpfully.

Wrinkling her nose, Finlay considered their odds. "How would they return, if they were successful?"

"That we do not know." The aliens shifted uncomfortably. "It is assumed that they will discover the means that Kuja was first deposited here, and reproduce it as soon as possible."

Nazer's smile lost some of its bitterness, genuinely entertained by the suicidal proposal. "Sounds like the possibilities are either: get killed trying to go, get stranded when you get there, or actually succeed. Honestly odds like that aren't so bad."  Turning to the insects, he frowned. "Can the transport be used more than once? Can we send another team if the first one fails?"

"Negative. One transmission only." 

He nodded slowly. "Then one team is what we will send.  I assume one of you two will stay with Kuja, the other will come with me?"

"Nazer-kai?!"  Doctor Ing got there first, but the others were just as loud. Clay, not really caring if the man threw his life away or not, quickly sorted the pros and cons and found the answer surprising.

"He's right. He should be the one to go."  Someday, he decided, he'd either become accustomed to being stared at as if mentally unsound, or learn to keep his mouth shut. Shrugging he gestured at the scarred general. "Who among us knows more about Kuja than he does?  If anyone is going to have a chance trying to track down a cure, it'll be him."

"It's not like I'm doing anything important here, after all."  Nazer's tired comment drew attention back towards himself. "In this at least, let me be of use to Masa."

"And who will stay with him when you are gone?" Anne spoke up softly from where she stood at the back of the group, all hidden by her coworkers. "He needs you here."

"He can't even speak to me. Better that one of the Queen's envoys keep him company, they at least can share his thoughts."  The soldier stood up slowly, and to Clay's amazement, nodded differentially in his direction. "I'm going. General Gerrick is right, if I survive the trip, I have a hunch I know what I am looking for."

"We should leave immediately."  The mentor shifted until it was standing as well. "The Queen is concerned about how long Kuja can be sustained at his current level."

Nazer glanced up at the isolated wing of the hospital, and back to his unlikely allies. "I'll need to know what I can take with me. And I'll need one of you to come with me when I tell Masa. There are some questions he's going to have to answer, whether he wants to or not."

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

- - - - - - - - - - - -

A shadow covered him as he fell. The almost-mechanical sound of buzzing wings drowned out the roar of the wind. Laro looked up just in time for a pair of massive claw-like feet to reach down and catch him by the back of his uniform, digging deep into the leathers and scratching the skin beneath. It wasn't a painless process, but he had no complaints. His luck, and his jacket, held under the sudden stress, and he whooped with joy as his fall was transformed into a clumsy swoop and then wobbling flight. Carried like a limp bit of prey, he dangled a few precious feet above the tops of the waves and thanked his ancestors for looking out for him even when he was worlds away from home.

"You weigh more than expected."  The whispery comment from above was distinctly grumpy. 

 Laro squelched the urge to tell his rescuer off until they were safely on shore.  "Sorry."  Still twisting somewhat in the wind as he dangled, he was able to catch some new glimpses of the coast they were laboriously approaching.  Their flight path was slowly losing altitude with every yard they progressed.

"I cannot swim, Laro."  

The creature had a point. As nice as the save had been, he didn't want his only ally to pay for it with his life.  Laro tucked his legs up to keep from trailing his feet in the water.

"If you drop me, can you make it to land?"

"Yes. But-"

"Think you can carry my spear for me? I'll catch up in a few."

"But, the water-"

Laro shook his head. "I can swim. Drop me, I'll be all right."

No sooner than the words left his lips, the grip on the back of his coat was gone. He plunged into shockingly cold water and came up sputtering and flailing, trying to keep a hand on his weapon despite the suction of the water against his gear.  The shadow flitted overhead again, moving like a seriously oversized bumblebee. "Spear?"

Still coughing to clear the water from his lungs, he treaded water and held his weapon aloft so it could be claimed by the airborne anomaly. 

"I will look for you on shore."

"City." He managed one word between clearing the salt out of his nose and lungs. Laro waved vaguely at the white blur in the distance.

"I go."  Not mentioning if he understood the direction or not, Laro's companion ponderously buzzed off into the distance. The creature's outline blending with the dark greens of the distant shore as it zipped above the waves.

He treaded water a moment longer as he got his bearings, and then started the tedious process of swimming to shore. 

// Well, I've /arrived/ at any rate. Now to see if I can actually accomplish anything… //

***** 

***** 

--Lunar

Relocating across country really takes a bite out of the writing schedule. So does Bit Torrent. I really need to wrap this bad-boy up. 

And now, for your viewing pleasure, a completely random bit of humor generated by my impatience in writing the next two chapters:

**Kuja****:** Since I single-handedly defeated them the aliens have bestowed on me their highest honor.... I am now an 'honorary Queen.' 

**Zidane****:** *howls with laughter* 

**Kuja****:** Shut up. 

**Zidane****:** You were already there. 

**Kuja****:** ... 

**Zidane**: Even ALIENS realize you're a complete fruit 

**Kuja****:** Shut up. 

**Zidane**: now why didn't *we* think of that... 

**Kuja****:** Shut up! 

**Zidane****:** I wonder if Garnet would mind... 

**Kuja**: I should have destroyed you. 

**Zidane****:** You could have her spare tiara, she never wears it... 

**Kuja****:** Mrrrrr (POUNCE!) 

**Zidane****:** OW! (BRAWL!)

-END-


	26. I will Follow as Best I Can

Feather Flight:  I will Follow as Best I Can (part 26) 

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

It was hard not to be eye-catching, Laro realized, when walking into town with an eight-foot tall insect two steps behind him.  Trying to explain to the Selwe exactly why he wanted to leave him behind outside the city had been an exercise in futility however, so in they had come. Laro at least stood ready to defend himself from sudden screams of 'monster' and 'run!'  While they got stares aplenty, the townspeople seemed remarkably calm about the whole thing.  He stood in the middle of the small road leading its winding way through the wharves and warehouses towards the city, half waiting for the screaming to begin, and dared to let out a weak sigh of relief.

The explanation as to why nobody cared about the overgrown wasp pricing out their wares, he soon realized, was that they weren't entirely 'normal' themselves. 

A five-foot-three stork in top hat and tails nodded cordially at him as it stepped past, a recent passenger from a rather handsome ship docked down the row. It ruffled its wings as it adjusted its grip on a satchel full of papers.  Another man - no, a walrus – dressed in overalls was sitting atop a ladder adding a fresh coat of paint to a pair of cheerful green shutters outside his storehouse.  A little walrus-girl in a sundress was playing with a kitten on wooden deck alongside the building.  Laro tried not to gape.  There were humans too, walking towards the city along with him, hauling goods, or just strolling among the animals as they went about their daily business. No one else seemed to find anything amiss with the giant-sized beasts walking and talking all around them. It was all terribly disorienting.

"Laro." 

At least the surly whisper of a voice was familiar. He turned around to see what the bug wanted. "Yeah?"

"I'm hungry."  It pointed at the melon that a very very pink-skinned /something/ was trying to sell them. "The creature demands equal trade. Give it something so I may have food?"

Having no idea what counted for currency in their strange new city, Laro dug out a bag full of random trinkets he had prepared just in case. His fingers closed on a random gaudy ring, donated to the task by the old duke, and held it out for inspection.  The fruit stand's proprietor, who was /not/ a frog but something very like one, gave it a moment's thought before loading them up with three melons each and waving them off with a smile.

Laro tucked his bounty against his chest, envying the way his chills-inspiring ally could re-allocate one of his four 'legs' to act as a spare hand so he could hold two and still have a limb free to eat. The large mandibles bit through the melon's husk with ease.  He looked away, not thrilled to be babysitting the alien to begin with, certainly not willing to kickback and enjoy eating lunch with it. 

Every time he caught a glimpse of the bug out of the corner of his eye he had to remind himself to not frantically grab for his weapon. The mentor wasn't the same creature he had fought years ago, as far as he could tell. Certainly they looked similar enough, but this alien at least had a far 'younger' feel than any of the other Selwe Laro had met before.

Then again, it could be exactly the same bug, just new attitude. How the hell is anyone supposed to know?

At least the alien showed no sign of interest in trying to dissect him the minute his back was turned.  Laro found, despite his best effort, he was beginning to relax in its presence.  It was simply too much to deal with.  He had enough to worry him just standing in line between a trio of mice decked out like pirates, and a badger in a housedress with a basket of squash.  Laro was willing to let his bug-related paranoia drop, at least until they were safely home among familiar places and things.

Using his height to his advantage, Laro peered ahead, following the line of traffic into an ornate building. People seemed to be queuing up for something popular. Looking back proved his ally was still busy devouring his sugary breakfast. There would be no help from that direction for a while. It left him with few options. He mustered his courage and tapped one of the lanky mice on the shoulder. "Um excuse me. I'm new to the city, but is this the way into town?"

"Yes! Don't worry, we were lost too on our first visit! You just stick with us and we'll point you in the right direction."  The rodent's laugh had a definite chatter to it. His whiskers twitched as he spoke. "We all go through that door and ride the free tram through the tunnel and right into the heart of the city. It's terribly convenient!"

Laro tried hard not to stare. One of the stockier mice hovering near by had a scar across his snout rather like his own. Something had slashed the gray-furred creature an impressive wound once. He kept his eyes on the taller mouse and smiled gratefully. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"Nothing to it."

The train ride was brilliant.  Laro almost forgot the hassle of trying to convince first the gate attendant, and then the conductor that his bug was both sentient and harmless enough to allow to board.  The Selwe looked a little miserable to be crammed into the narrow bench, but bore up with it with minimal grumbling. Laro was too delighted to care once they got underway. So busy watching the scenery flash by that he almost forgot to eat he absorbed the chatter from his companions while he tried to look at everything without being obvious about it.  He hadn't ridden a train since he was a child, the last of them having long-ago been dissembled for parts or lack of use. 

The smooth roll of wheels along the track only served to remind him of how much had been lost since the start of the war. At least now there was hope that they could someday get it back again. For that, and much more, everyone had Kuja to thank. It served to remind him why he was here. Laro watched as they pulled into a large station. He only got a brief impression of the regal looking wooden ceiling and polished stone floor as he fought to keep up with his unlikely guides as they dodged the crowds towards the exit.  Staggering out into the sunshine, Laro was surrounded by two long rows of stone buildings on either side of the street; shop after shop displaying their wares in the windows for him to browse. The wide boulevard had little gardens in the center, and dozens of people strolling to and fro to complete their afternoon errands.

"Well here we are, friend. I hope you have a good time in the city."  The leader of the three mice waved at him. "We're off to the tavern for a drink or we'd offer a tour. You really can't get lost though, just stick to the main roads and hop the trains whenever you like, they're all free, even with the reconstruction."

"Wait," Laro suddenly had a thought. "Before you go, where are we?"

"Why this is the Market district, can't you tell?" The cheerful creature pointed up the street, that way lies the old church, or the main industrial area which is well worth seeing if you never have. Head down the steps if you have some spare coin and want to catch an evening performance. Otherwise head back into the station and follow the signs for a tour of the castle's lower levels. If you're really lucky you might get to see one of the prototype dirigibles!"

Trying to digest the flurry of directions, Laro frowned. "But what city is this?"

This time his question got him a set of stares from his guides. "Strange sort of traveler if you can get to Lindblum and not even know you're there. This is the biggest city on the continent you know!"

"Probably the biggest city anywhere, since Cleyra was flattened." Another agreed.

Laro had no idea what they were talking about, and wasn't sure he wanted to ask.  He tried to repeat the name to himself, but it had no meaning. Lindblum, it was certainly a giant city. Judging by the skyline his own modest capital could fit inside this tiered metropolis easily twice over. Looking uphill towards their tavern, and then downhill, he opted to explore the market first, wondering where he was supposed to start looking for a single man in a city of tens of thousands.

Somehow the humans seemed the most approachable, perhaps simply because they were the least alarming to look at. Choosing from among those available, he found a woman dressed in a rather exotic looking belled-dress, holding a parasol to ward off the sun as she walked her dog.   Laro decided to try his luck. "Excuse me... I'm looking for someone..."

The woman walked past without ever bothering to acknowledge him.  Laro frowned, knowing he didn't look his best after his unexpected swim but not accustomed to being completely snubbed.  It took a moment to remember that he was a complete unknown in this city.  He couldn't rely on any of his past reputation to help him. As far as the nobles shopping around him knew, he was just another drifter. 

Deciding to aim a little lower in hopes of a warmer reception, he tried a cheerful woman taking a break outside a florist's shop. "Excuse me madam, do you know a man named Zidane?"

"Know Zidane? What is this, some sort of joke?" She laughed loudly and shook her head. "Go on, go hang out with the rest of your felonious friends down by the theater and stop trying to trick us poor shopkeepers into giving you freebies. Gratitude only goes so far you know!"

"But I was actually-" Laro sighed as the woman disappeared back into her store.  Confused by her comments, he followed the paved road down several boulevards and came to a flight of stairs. The view from the top was lovely, roves and crisscrossing streets leading into the distance, and finally down again into the harbor.  It would have been a long walk had he done it on foot.

In the distance he could hear the rattle of the tram as it whirred over and through the city. Artfully decorated with wood and brass, the car rumbled by on a track suspended above the street.  Laro resisted the urge to stare at the amazing sight.

Signs at the bottom of the wide staircase proclaimed in faded gold paint that they were entering the theatre district.  Laro thought several of the larger buildings along the street had the look of old performance halls, but it was hard to say which were still in business during the lull of late afternoon. Some were in obviously better repair than others. The large buildings were interspersed with some rather tumble-down looking apartments and rattier versions of the shops he had walked by before. All in all giving the area a rather softer, if more well-worn aspect than the carefully manicured streets one level up. 

I think I've found my way onto the 'other' side of town.

Wandering down the walkway, he passed a set of neglected looking shops.  A pair of child-sized ravens kicked a battered looking ball in one of the alleys. They stopped and stared as he and the Mentor strolled by.

 It was strange to see that despite the wide variety of beasts and birds represented in the city, there was nothing remotely like the Selwe to be found. Laro couldn't help but be a little comforted by the fact.  He wasn't sure how well he'd be able to cope with the sight of a small swarm of the mantis-like creatures sitting around one of the open-air cafés sipping coffee. He pushed the disturbing thought from his mind, noticing instead that they were approaching a broad porch on a particularly graffiti-covered old playhouse. The wide steps leading out and down to the street sported five or six young men dressed in an assortment of furs and homemade outfits. His first instinct was to call them thugs. 

Suddenly wanting the vague assurance of an ally near by, he looked over his shoulder and sighed. The Mentor was half a block back, staring at a small girl skipping rope. She looked human enough, not as well-to-do as her neighbors several blocks away, but round faced and pigtailed, her little shoes clattering on the stones as she hopped up and down in steady rhythm. Laro wondered if he should be worried at the interest the bug was taking in her play, but the child didn't seem frightened, and the alien acted content to just watch, so he had decided it was probably safe enough.  War crimes aside, he was learning that the Selwe seemed a race of nosey, grumbling, rules-obsessed, nitpickers with a mother-complex.  It didn't make his memories any less disturbing, but it reminded him that the present was what it was, and the past might just be well enough left behind. 

Motivated, Laro cleared his throat and tried the chubby-looking man on the lowest step. The young man sported a rather scraggly looking beard, and didn't seem to like being interrupted as he picked his teeth.  Laro wasn't sure why he bothered, acting on instinct. Often times it was the less desirables' in a society who knew the most about what was going on.  He was willing to take a chance that the trend held true even in this strange city. "Excuse me... Can you tell me if you know of someone by the name of Zidane?"

"'cuse me? What do I look like, stupid?" The man scratched his belly beneath where his too-short shirt cut off. "Everyone knows Zidane! He's like, famous and shit. Are you trying something funny or what?"  Laro backed up a step as the man grabbed for a large hammer.  Decidedly round around the middle or not, the man looked capable with the odd weapon. He didn't want to be taken by surprise by the business end of the mallet.

"I didn't mean to upset you. I didn't know he was famous."

"Where have you been living, ol'man, under a rock?" One of the others spoke up.

"Under the sea, more likely. Look, there's seaweed dangling out of his boot." The biggest of them spoke the softest, but Laro didn't mistake the tone for friendly. Glancing down he saw there was indeed still a sprig or two of the irritating beach-debris attached to his leg and plucked it off with a sigh.

The fat one resumed his chiding, "Everyone knows Zidane is famous! He's Zidane!"  The man's chest puffed up in pride.

"He's Our Zidane, to be precise." The drawl from the young man with a leather bandana on the top step made Laro wish he was still in his army so he could chew the kid out for disrespect. It wouldn't do to piss of the locals. There were a lot more of them than there was of him. "Who are you, anyway? Your clothes look funny, and frankly, so do you."

He couldn't discipline them, but he could stare at them until the weakest of the bunch flinched. It was childishly satisfying in its way. "I am General Laro Nazer. I have come from a rather long way away, to find someone named Zidane. I'm assuming it's not a common name?"

"There's only one Zidane." The redhead with the bandanna agreed, chewing on a stalk of something as he considered his answer. "Well, to be fair, I'm sure there are a lot of young mothers naming their son's Zidane now, but those are just kids. You'll want the real thing I wager."

Success, after an afternoon of being snubbed and stared at was a welcome relief.  At least the odd little group was willing to talk to him about Zidane, although he wasn't sure if he trusted them to be completely honest with him. "Please, where can I find him? My business is rather urgent."

"Is that your pet?" The young man ignored his question, pointing behind him and down the street. Laro turned, suddenly aware he had forgotten to baby-sit his alien.  The giant insect now had the jump rope and was trying unsuccessfully to coordinate a 'hop' while various children watched. Frustrated, it shook out its wings and lifted itself a few feet off the ground with a loud droning noise in order to untangle its legs from the pink cord.  The girl closest to the bug was blown backwards against her door with the strength of the downdraft.

"Oi!" Laro shouted to get the Selwe's attention. "Knock that off, you're too big to fly in these alleyways, you'll hurt someone!"

Somehow he must have been heard above the sound of wings because the Selwe settled back onto the paving stones, looking vaguely guilty as it handed the rope back to its owner.  The little girl seemed more interested in the translucent membrane of the bug's wings than her toy. Laro waved at the insect to be sure he had its attention. "Come over here before you get into trouble."

"Sorry." The Mentor hissed as it shuffled over to join him.  That seemed to impress the rogue's gallery more than anything he had tried yet. Laro felt vaguely vindicated at having the alien in tow.

"I don't think you can play that game with four legs anyway." He consoled the bug. It tilted its heart-shaped head to consider the problem, compound eyes revealing nothing of its thoughts. Turning back to the lounging crew on the steps, he tried again. "You said 'our Zidane', do you know him well?"

"Sure thing, mister, he grew up here." He watched the group exchange an amused look. "Bastard doesn't here anymore though. Could be anywhere." 

Pointing at his chest with his thumb, their de facto leader finally introduced himself. "I'm Blank. The idiot with the hammer is Cinna." He reached down and playfully punched his round friend in the back of the head, knocking his hat off before pointing to the largest of the group sitting next to him. "This is Marcus." 

"Nice to meet you." Laro tried hard not to stare, but it was still a challenge. While Cinna and Blank looked mostly human beneath their odd costumes, Marcus' face seemed to be mostly chin with some prominent teeth peeking over his upper lip from where his jaw didn't line up.  He didn't look as much an animal as the trio of drunken possums Laro had passed earlier, but he wasn't anything close to human either. 

Apparently ordinary humans were the minority in this place.  Someone like Kuja would have easily blended into the crowd on the streets, tail and all.  For the first time, Laro felt he had a vague idea of what it had to be like for Kuja stick out like a sore thumb back at court.  Between his own unusual clothing and the Selwe at his back, he was more likely to draw attention than his lover would in this strange place.

Thinking about Kuja reminded him that despite the wide variety of animals, men, and things that fell between, he had seen no one yet that looked anything like his kitten.  Feathers he had seen a plenty, but their owners tended to be covered in them, and sporting bird feet as well.  There had also been plenty of tails, but they had always been attached to an equally furry body.  That strange combination of lovely boy and unlikely appendages remained a unique item on his list.  He wondered what it meant. If there was Kuja, and if there was a brother, than certainly there must be more of them.  It only remained to find out where.

"What do ya wanna see Zidane for, anyway?" Blank asked with bland curiosity.

"I have a message for him."

"Mail him a letter." The young man offered unhelpfully. "There's always a moogle around somewhere. It doesn't cost much of anything to use MogNet you know, and it's probably the easiest way of getting a hold of him if he's off dicking around in the wilderness."

"This isn't the sort of message I can just write down."  Laro winced at the thought.

His final conversation with Masa had been rather short, but his kitten had bothered to repeat himself over two particular details.  He could now see why he didn't need to worry about people knowing Zidane. His lover had actually laughed at his worries, barely a breath of sound, but a genuine moment of amusement. Masa had been entertained by his doubts that he could find one person on an entire planet.

Apparently it was impossible to /not/ know Zidane.  He hopped getting his hands on the man was equally simple. The second point Masa had stressed was to never use his real name except to Zidane himself. Laro was still puzzling out the reason behind that one, but trusted it would make sense in time.  Kuja's directives were often riddle-like in their delivery, but never wrong.

Since detailed explanation of his motives seemed to definitely count as 'don't use my name, it'll only get you into trouble', Laro was left with having to find the man and explain in person.  He wasn't surprised when his answer did little to endear him to the odd crowd at his feet. Half of them took the opportunity to joke about how Zidane must have misplaced a bastard son by one of his illicit lady-loves. The other half was musing that he was on a mission of revenge by the husband of some lady-love. Laro couldn't help but wonder just what sort of man this Zidane would end up being.  Either the crew of bandits was masters of exaggeration, or Masa's brother was a very interesting character. 

Blank shook his head, overruling both camps. "It's probably both."

"Does Zidane have those sorts of problems often?" He hated to ask.

"Not that we know of," Blank drolly replied. "But there's a first time for everything. God knows enough women throw themselves at him."

"Or try to." Marcus chuckled. "That Garnet's can be scary when she feels someone's messing with her man."

"She'd have to be. I always said it would take a hard sort of woman to put a leash on that boy." Blank agreed. "Best thing for him, he won't cheat on her without thinking twice first. He knows she'd have his balls in a vice the moment she found out."

"Who'd want to cheat on her anyway?" Cinna sighed. "She's gorgeous! Not to mention Rich!"

Blank snorted. "A little too preachy for my tastes."

"We all /know/ your tastes, Blank." 

Laro simply listened to the banter, trying to follow what they were talking about. "Excuse me, who's Garnet?"

"That's Queen Garnet to you, bub." The chubby one tapped his hammer against the steps for emphasis. "I don't know who's general you're supposed to be, but only her friends can call Garnet, Garnet." He paused, confusing himself.

"Way to go, dumbass." Marcus shifted forward a little as if to confide a secret. "Queen Garnet, you see, is Zidane's wife if you didn't know. Surely you've heard of Queen Garnet of Alexandria?"

Laro shrugged. "I'm sorry, but I'm really not from around here."

"You must be from the friggin' moon, mate." Blank shook his head. "How'd you get here anyway?"

Looking over his shoulder, he could see the Selwe raise two of it's hands in a rather human gesture of defeat. "Teleportation?" It offered the single word as if unsure how it would be taken.

Marcus scratched his large chin. "Isn't that how the black mages got around back during the war? You know, when they'd hop in those jars and come out as soap bubbles right where they needed to be to attack?"

"Gah, don't remind me of that!" Cinna cringed. "That was creepy as hell, the way they'd just appear in mid air."

Blank studied Laro closely. "You don't look like a black mage. Besides, those teleportation jars were all smashed, and only that poncy-evil-bastard-Kuja knew how to make them in the first place."

It was all he could do not to jump at the familiar name spoken so far from home.  Almost stuttering in his surprise, Laro tried to school his shock into something a little more subtle. "And Kuja is?"

"Was. He's dead and good riddance." Blank made a sour face. "You don't even know about Kuja? Hell, you really are from the moon."

Hesitantly picking his words, Laro tried to learn more.  It was strange that there was such clear animosity towards his kitten.  Most of him wanted to smack the man's head into the steps for the obvious disgust with which he said the name. Somehow he played along, keeping his questions innocent. "Now that you mention it, I think I did hear about him. He was a mage, wasn't he?"

"A mage? He was like a living breathing Armageddon!" Cinna wailed. "Sure a couple of years have gone by, but you can still see the damage he did to the city if you look, and we got off really light compared to all of the others."

"Between him and Brahne, half the city was on fire at one point." Blank sighed. "They made real big mess. I'm sorry for Garnet and all, but that woman was a complete nut. Deserved what she got if you ask me."

"Regent Cid was an oglop for a year and he was /still/ saner than she was." Marcus agreed.

There were simply too many names to remember all at once. After the tiring trip through the void, the unexpected swim, and having walked around town for the better part of the afternoon, Laro dearly wished he could find someplace quiet to rest his head on his knees and gather his thoughts. He wondered if the ragged group of young men would mind if he borrowed a corner of their porch for a while.  It only took a moment to reconsider. They'd probably pick his pockets if he dared to take a nap.

"Look," Laro raised his hands to try and forestall any further chatter. "I hate to interrupt, but I really do need the information. Can you help me find Zidane?"

"How much?"

He blinked. "What?"

"How much you willing to pay?" Blank looked bored. "I mean we charge the usual tourists 500 for a tour of all Zidane's old haunts in this neighborhood, but what you're asking is a little more involved, ya know? There's going to be travel expenses, labor, food, the occasional bribe, not to mention guard-service for you when we're out in the wild. We don't come cheap, ya know?"

Laro frowned. "I was rather hoping you could just tell me where to go, and I'd find my own way."

The young men laughed at his proposal. "Even information is worth something, besides, you don't even know anything, you probably don't even know how to get to Alexandria on your own!"

Cinna grinned, revealing a set of bad teeth. "You'd try and walk there and get lost in the mountains, or eaten by something big and nasty in the woods."

"I dunno." Marcus temporized, "I mean look at his friend. It almost looks like it belongs back in the forest. Never heard of one of the plant-monsters learning how to talk though."

"Pretty nice spear on his back too." One of the quiet ones spoke up, "What are you, a dragoon?"

Laro shook his head, "I'm not familiar with the word."

"Only people from Cleyra can be dragoons, idiot." Marcus answered for him before giving him an appraising look. "Bit of advice, general. You're better off hiring us than going it alone, even if you think you can handle it. The fact is, my blind old auntie could get to Alexandria faster than you probably could, and if you're in a rush, you'll need all the help you can get to run the little runt down."

Noting how the others were nodding sagely, Laro hoped he wasn't being royally rooked but some opportunistic young thieves. Still, if they really were friends of Zidane, the opportunity to quickly complete his mission was too good to miss.

I can always run them down and shake out their pockets later if they try and double cross me, I guess.

He was willing to give himself good odds against most of the group. Only Marcus' bulk worried him should he have to take on the gang in a fight.  Laro was vaguely glad though that he had thought to hide an assortment of his 'trade' trinkets in his pockets rather than produce the whole pouch in front of them. If it looked like he was scrounging for funds, they would be less tempted than if he produced an entire bag of easily-to-steal baubles.

"I suppose you're right." He bought some time as he dug around in his jacket and produced a kerchief with three rubies. "I'm afraid I don't have any local currency, but perhaps we can exchange these for a fair amount of coin?"

Blank picked one of the small gems off the cloth and held it up appraisingly before passing it to the man on his right. The other thug gave it a similar inspection, obviously getting more out of it than his friend. "It's good quality and cut, nothing magical though."

Looking down at the other two, Laro was faintly glad they /weren't/ magical, he had had the set rattling around in his breast pocket all day and didn't want to think about what might have happened if one had decided to randomly 'go off' on its own.  The young men however seemed to find the lack of mystical properties to be disheartening.  Laro's ears were good enough to catch the faint, 'well we could always lie about it when we resell them…' and he fought the urge to smile.

Blank finished his consultation and at length, reached out to claim the other two as well. The stones were passed along to join the other, and all three disappeared into the amateur jeweler's pocket as the youth darted off with them.  Hoping to get some return on his investment, Laro felt relieved when the redheaded leader stood to shake his hand. "Well that will certainly be enough for transportation to Alexandria, we'll arrange the tickets but the next ship won't be until tomorrow morning."

"I thought you said it was over some mountains." He countered guardedly.

"It is." The younger man gave him a bored look. "We'll be taking an airship, of course."

"He's never been on an airship, has he?" Marcus chuckled quietly from his perch on the steps. "He really is my old auntie."

Blank snorted but otherwise ignored the commentary. "Where will we find you in the morning? You have a hotel?"

"Not exactly."  Looking around at the long shadows, Laro wasn't thrilled by the idea of having to find his way back through the city after dark. The sun had slipped steadily lower as he has walked around, and now it was low enough to hide behind some of the taller buildings. "I'd be open to suggestions if they are reasonably clean and quiet."

"Since you don't have any currency that could be a trick. Not to mention your friend there might scare a regular hotel owner something fierce." Marcus mused. "Tell you what, you throw us another bauble like those stones, and we'll give include meals and a room above the theatre into the deal.  You'll have to negotiate how much it'll cost to search for Zidane with us once we get to Alexandria, otherwise you're welcome to go it on your own."

Too tired to argue with the logic, Laro simply produced a thick gold coin and held it up for inspection. "Will this do?" 

Blank snagged it and grunted appreciatively about rare antiques.  Marcus nodded and silently gestured that they were to follow him around the side of the building and up a long set of steps to the roof.

"Wake up you lazy crooks! Baku is home!" 

"Hey boss, welcome back!"

"How was the council meeting? Cid up to his old tricks?"

Laro woke with a jolt as a door one floor below him banged open with enough force to collide loudly with the wall.  The booming voice floating up through the floorboards was as good as any alarm clock, although he sleepily wished it could have held off for another hour. The gang of self-confessed thieves and con artists had kept him up later than expected with their food and stories, both equally interesting to a newcomer. The wine at least had a markedly better flavor than any from home, and the meat, while unrecognizable, was tasty too. 

He wished he had been paying more attention to the dishes, still soldier enough to recognize a good meal when he had one, but the yarns they had spun about Zidane's youth had been entirely too funny.  The stories, one on top of the next, had allowed him to forget for a while how gloomy he had been in the past months, and after hearing only a few, he thought he might finally understand why Kuja always had a rather irritated yet wistful expression when talking about his brother. 

Masa did say that they were raised apart. I can't help but imagine what he might have been like had these rascals been responsible for him as a child.

If his kitten's youth had been spent in training and study, his brother had learned most of his skills on the streets of the world.  It was hard to imagine that the man was now consort to a queen.  Laro reasoned that Alexandria must be a very liberal sort of country.  When he had said as much, however, the thieves had only laughed at him. Apparently the queen herself had a lot to do with Zidane's luck; that and the fact that he was some sort of globally known war hero. 

"Damn! It looks like you guys were really having a party last night!" The booming voice was loud enough now to be crystal clear despite being on the ground level. "What have I told you idiots about spending Tantalus funds without me?! I want to party too you know."

"Don't cry Baku, we left you some pie, and two drumsticks too!" 

"Two drumsticks for your leader after you've eaten three roasts by yourselves!? You dog!"

"But boss! We've got a customer!"  Cinna's whine was recognizable even with the clatter of movement in the gang headquarters. "A real paying customer! And the job's a cinch!"

"A customer? What does he want?"

"You'll love this, boss. He's paying us to take him to Zidane. We're talking, all expenses paid travel to Alexandria, and all we have to do is run the dumb blond down at Ruby's dinner theatre and sit on him for five minutes so this guy can deliver a message!"

"And what if the boy isn't /in/ Alexandria, have any of you thought that far ahead?"

"Relax, old man, think of your blood pressure." Laro smirked as he lay in bed, acknowledging that the redhead's insolent tone was likely to have the opposite effect on his superior. "We got it all planned out, he pays in stages. So we've got ourselves covered through tonight with getting there, and tomorrow we'll get an audience with Garnet and see if she knows where her boy-toy is. If she says he's in the city, great, if not, we'll tell the poor schmuck that our new asking price for finding Zidane is something insanely high, and let him take it from there."

"Clever. And where is our customer now?"

"Oh, right upstairs."  Laro got another grin at the way the new voice sputtered and cursed. Deciding it was as good a time as any to get up; he stretched and padded over to the water bowl and pitcher at the washstand.  Refreshed, he stuck his head out the little window and caught sight of the Mentor dozing in the early morning sunshine. The alien had decided that the roof was a more comfortable perch than anything in the room, when they had settled for the night. 

Shaking his coat to work some of the stiffness out of it before pulling it on, Laro mourned that his first encounter on this world had to be with a large body of salt water. 

Maybe I should see if I can afford a more local costume, if they're right about Zidane being off on some trip is true, I may be waiting a while for him to come back.

Such things could be dealt with as easily in any city as they could in this one. So long as he wasn't actually indecent, he didn't mind looking a little outlandish if it helped his cause. 

"You /idiots/ he's heard every word we've said!"

"Probably."  Baku was not only audible from the roof, but on the stairs leading down to the alley as well. Laro shook his head in wonder as he knocked on the front door.  Blank didn't even bat an eye as he invited himself in.  "Ah, and here he is, right on schedule, Baku, may I present General Laro Nazer, although general of what, and from where, we're still a little hazy on."

Laro nodded towards the large man at the center of the room out of habit, glad the gesture had been beaten into him long ago because otherwise he would have been caught staring once again.  Of the whole troupe only their leader stood tall enough to look him in the eye. Baku was also the most alarming looking of the lot.  Between the purplish beard, the pig nose, and the tall pointed ears, Laro was forced to not focus on the man's head at all, choosing instead to focus on a more polite point a few inches above his shoulder to keep from making an idiot of himself. Certainly the man's clothes were in better shape than his subordinates' but the rest of him was simply strange.

Apparently, the gang boss was equally alarmed by the look of him and his trailing companion, hopping backwards in fright as the massive insect slipped through the door. "Some kind of Mist monster?! What were you idiots thinking!"

"There aren't any Mist monsters anymore boss. They all went away when the Mist did, remember?" Marcus sighed.

"Mornin' general, how do you like your eggs?" Cinna bustled around the little stove with a wave for him as he got ingredients out of the cupboards. "I'll have something ready for you in just a sec, then we'll stroll over to the airship docks."

"Thank you." Laro was torn between wanting to see how the man's boss would deal with his presence and the happy possibility of breakfast.  The sooner they got under way, the sooner he could see about finding a cure.  There just wasn't any time to spare.

Baku seemed to be deep in thought, chewing on his leftovers and grumbling to himself as everyone else ate and packed. It wasn't until Laro set his plate aside however that the giant man finally spoke, "Exactly what business do you have with Zidane, stranger? You don't look quite right to me.  I'm thinking that you're actually some sort of sneak, trying to use us to hurt Queen Garnet, are you?"

Laro hesitated, thrown both by the sudden accusation and the chorus of annoyed groans that came from the thieves. Looking to them for guidance earned him a shrug from Blank and encouraging waves from the others. He cleared his throat. "I have a very important message that I can only share with Zidane."

"What sort of message?" The bearded man asked suspiciously.

"A personal one."

Seeming annoyed by his refusal to be more forthcoming, Baku inhaled as if to start shouting again. Laro held up his hands for a moment of his attention. "I can promise you that my message is just that. I do not intend to harm him or anyone in Alexandria, I am simply in urgent need to speak with Zidane and perhaps ask for his help with a problem."

"hmmmm"

Baku's thoughtful noise only made his gang groan again. Two of them opened the door and started carrying their bags out onto the porch as the others disappeared outside with mutters about clearing the street.  Done with his new set of ruminations, the boss gave Laro an appraising glare. "Tell you what, stranger. If you truly are on a quest as you say you are, you will accept my challenge to a duel. For know, that only the truest hearted warriors have the strength to defeat me, Baku in single combat! That way I will know for certain that you are worthy of Tantalus' help."

"Jeez Baku, give it a rest already will ya?" Blank sighed as he stole the last biscuit from the tray. You wanted to spar with him the minute you laid eyes on him, admit it. You don't want to admit that he's as tall as you."

Laro watched the older man fume at his gang member with interest and almost jumped when a hand landed on his arm. "You're best off just accepting, it's a bit of a bother, but if we want to stay on schedule we can't have the boss trying to throw a wrench in things."

Marcus guided him outside and looked him over thoughtfully. "This will be a barehanded match, so if that's not your thing I recommend you just give it a go for a few swings and then let him land you one somewhere that looks like it hurts. Once your down Baku will take pity on you and we'll be on our way."

Feeling more than a little silly, Laro could only nod in agreement.  By the time he had handed his coat over to Marcus for safe keeping the rest of the gang had formed a loose ring on the street to mark the boundary of the fight. It all had the sort of aura of a schoolyard bullying contest, and left him wondering just what exactly he was getting into. Turning to the square jawed thief he hissed, "Are there any sort of rules I should know about? Hitting below the belt or anything like that?"

"Stick to the basics," The quiet man advised, "No hair pulling, kicking or dust slinging, Baku hits hard but he's not too creative, you know?"

"Thanks."  Turning back to the fight, he was startled to see that the gang leader was already stripped to the waist, and flexing in the middle of the ring.  His purple colored beard was entirely natural it seemed. It matched the pelt of hair on his chest and forearms.  Laro quietly hoped that appearance aside, he would fight like an ordinary guy. The testing-sort-of punch he received to the shoulder set most of his worries aside.

He threw a punch of his own, not surprised for the hesitant gesture to be deflected. Baku might be heavyset but he moved quick enough when it suited him. The second hit he took from the man had some definite strength behind it; Laro opted to dodge the third.

"You going to fight me or what?!" The man's challenge was a fair question.  Reigning himself to a short brawl, he went for the thief's abdomen and got another knock to the shoulder for his effort.  There was a certain appeal to ending the silly fight as soon a possible.  There was always the chance that it would backfire and end with him on his back, but with valuable minutes ticking away before his ship left, he didn't want to risk not being on it.

"Just getting warmed up, Mr. Baku." He offered the man a smile, dodging a cut to his head for his efforts. Marcus was right about the boss being low on strategy, single strikes he could dodge but he was hopeless against combinations.  Sternly telling himself that it was for the best, Laro closed for two low jabs, drawing Baku's eyes away from the inevitable upper-right to his jaw.  It felt like he was punching the side of a house, but thankfully the blow had the desired effect.

Caught off balance by the previous two swings, the bearded man caught a fist full across the cheek. The force of the blow left him tottering backwards, and then surprisingly, down.  Laro watched in disbelief as the large man lay sprawled on the dusty street, fairly certain he hadn't hit him /that/ hard.  Thankfully Baku simply looked stunned, blinking up at the sky as and wheezing as he recovered from the sudden shock.

Laro watched him a moment as the others clapped and hooted, but when Blank checked the older man over, he only shook his head and laughed. "Crazy old coot. You'd think he'd learn. You should have seen the way Zidane laid him out, and that was /before/ he became all super-powerful and shit."  Grinning at him, the redhead patted him on the shoulder. "You've got some good moves there, general. Next time I'll know where to bet my money."

"Hey Marcus, I'd like to see your blind old auntie try to do /that/." Cinna sniggered as he collected some coins from the loose crowd, including the larger thief.

"Very funny." The thick-jawed man sighed as he parted with his money. "Now stop wasting time and someone get a bucket of water to wake the boss up with? We've got a ship to catch."

If anyone had told Laro a week ago that he'd be traveling to a strange world and riding across country in a ship that traveled through the air with the aid of a large balloon, he would have seriously doubted the person's sanity.  Now that he was actually doing it however, he had to admit, the view was breathtaking.  They were traveling high enough to slip over the mountains, the valleys below just blurs of green and brown far far below.

The others had gone into the interior cabin shortly after takeoff, complaining about the wind. The Mentor in particular had felt the chill of the higher altitude and taken shelter in a warm corner indoors.  He couldn't help but be captivated despite the brisk cold on deck, admiring the blue ribbon of a distant river, and the small specks in the air that were other airships cruising through the sky. Laro was certain no one back home would believe him. Well, Kuja would, when he was recovered enough to hear the whole outrageous story.  But his kitten had lived here after all, things like airships and city trams had to be commonplace to him.

Of course there was always the simple fact that Kuja might never get well enough to hear the silly story of how he'd been challenged to a fist fight by a den of thieves. Even more likely, he'd never even find a way home again, or take so long in doing so that cures wouldn't make any difference.  Laro almost wondered if he might cry, suddenly and painfully aware of the risk he had chosen. To stake everything on a faint hope, that was what he had done, Masa's life, his own, he couldn't pretend to seriously worry about the Selwe who had accompanied him. The insect had its own logic and reasoning for coming, but it had no personal stake in things. To the bug it was simply another order to be followed, handed down from on high.

I will get back there. With the cure. In time to use it. Laro let the absolute nature of the plan steady his nerves. It's as simple as that, really.

He knew he was lucky. He knew that he was incredibly lucky to even have gotten this far, to have found guides and transportation? On his very first day, it had to be fate kindly lending a hand.  Laro could only hope that it wouldn't let him down before the end. 

Some things are just meant to be, aren't they? If you want them badly enough, if you sacrifice enough, things have to happen, don't they?

"Excuse me. May I join you?"  Laro was completely thrown by the polite interruption, his thoughts scattered into the wind as he automatically turned to great the person standing next to him at the rail.  There was a moment of confusion as the wind swept his braids across his face with a stinging slap, but once his hair was tamed he found he still plenty to startle him. Beside him stood a little man who was composed of little more than an immense straw hat, an oversized blue coat, and clownishly large white gloves that almost had to reach up to hold onto the railing.

"Hello."  His companion waved cheerfully at him. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

Laro blinked, very aware of the fact that the only part of the short man's face he could see over the high collar and handkerchief was covered in heavy black cloth. Cheerfully glowing yellow lights served in place of his eyes. Swallowing his alarm, Laro found his voice. "Um, hello."

"My name is Mr. Two-Seventy-Three." The friendly little thing volunteered. "I come to this city once a year to buy supplies for my village, and see many amazing things every time I come."

"Ok." Laro tried hard not to stare.

"I've never seen anything like the insect before.  I was talking to it in the cabin, and it said it was traveling with you." Mr. Two-Seventy-Three looked over at where the door into the ship was shut tight against the cold. "He isn't a Mist construct or anything else I've ever seen, but he didn't seem interested in talking very much, so I was wondering, where does he come from?"

"Far far away," Laro almost laughed. "We've both come a long way to visit this city, although we aren't coming for the markets."

"Amazing." One oversized hand reached up to scratch beneath the dwarfish man's hat. "Are there more like him back at home?"

"Many more," Laro replied. "But I don't think any of them will ever travel this far again."

"You're Adventurers then!" Mr. Two-Seventy-Three bounced a little where he stood. "How exciting. I love to hear about adventures.  Zidane always has the most marvelous stories to tell when he comes back from his travels. When he comes to our little village he always makes sure to tell us everything he's seen and done."

"Does he? Does he visit your town very often?" The soldier paid more attention immediately, curious about anything to do with the Masa's mysterious brother.  The more he heard about the man, the more he wanted to meet him for himself.

"Oh yes, at least once a season." The little man bobbed to and fro with excitement, obviously eager to continue on the topic. "He comes to check and see how we're all doing, since the war we've been trying hard to learn about new things.

"Mr. Zidane likes learning new things too, that's why he wanders around so much, we think. We really admire him for that. And now I'm wandering too!" Adjusting his hat nervously, Mr. Two-Seventy-Three laughed. "But only once a year."

"Do you know if he's in Alexandria right now, I'd really like to meet him?"  Laro couldn't help but be buoyed by the little fellow's enthusiasm. It was clear he was talking to a Zidane-fan. He couldn't help but see how much the oddly dressed man knew.

Mr. Two-Seventy-Three shrugged cheerfully. "Hard to say, maybe so, maybe in Treno, maybe Daugerro. He wasn't at my village when I left, but that was two weeks ago! Wouldn't it be funny if he was there and I was here?"    

"I suppose so."

"He could be anywhere. He wanders a lot, you see." A white gloved hand patted his arm sympathetically. "I want to see him too, I have many stories from just traveling this far!"

Laro was going to ask the roly-poly little man more, but was completely distracted as a distant twinkling resolved itself into an improbable sight.  Directly ahead was a shelf like swath of meadow along the mountainside, resting at the center of the grassy field was a white city with a lake and twin waterfalls.  "Is that Alexandria?"

"Oh! Yes! Isn't it pretty?" The little man sighed happily. "From this far away you can't tell it was even attacked."

"Was it damaged during the war?" Laro was curious about the battles that seemed to all have taken place some years ago, apparently the scope of the fighting had been immense.  

All I really seem to know was that somehow Masa was involved.

He could still remember his lover's calm expression when he had confessed he was no stranger to battlefields.  He hadn't pursued it at the time, thinking it was just bluster, but now he really wondered.  Having seen what Kuja was capable of, he couldn't imagine what a world with several such men would suffer if countries decided to battle each other.

Nobody really seemed interested in talking about their recent history with him however. The thieves seemed to find the topic depressing and didn't go into details, and now the little man standing next to him looked uncomfortable as well.  

He tried asking anyway. "What happened? I'm afraid I'm a complete stranger to this place."

Mr. Two-Seventy-Three fussed with his hat again, a nervous fidget. "Well, the previous queen of Alexandria, Brahne, decided to try and conqueror the- well, the world, I guess, some years ago. People say she wasn't entirely right in the head after her husband died.  I don't know about that. All I know is that she thought she had allied herself with a powerful mage in order to wage war with a lot of people. But really, he was only using her, and when her armies began to loose, he betrayed her too. He tried to destroy Alexandria too, but Princess Garnet and Zidane stopped him before he could finish. A lot of people died. It was very sad."

"How long did the war last?" Laro hated to ask for more, seeing how upset his companion was, but with magic involved he couldn't imagine the conflict had lasted long.

"Not long, only a year or so. But it was very fast, and very vicious." The short man confessed.  "Her mage and armies were so much more powerful than anything anyone had ever seen. She could destroy entire cities in less than a week."

Again, Laro was reminded of the amazing power Kuja had wielded against the enemy. Yes, he could believe it might destroy a city, and very easily too.  Why would Masa do such a thing though? To betray a Queen, however unstable, and then lay waste to her city? It didn't sound like his kitten at all. Certainly he could be cold and calculating, but he had never seemed the type to willfully kill without cause.  Saddened, he watched as the city grew nearer. 

Kuja never talked about his past. But I never doubted it was an unhappy one.  Now I begin to see a little of why.

Gradually he could make out a swath of remarkable damage in the castle wall and surrounding urban sprawl.  It looked almost as if a giant had collapsed over half the city, crushing a corner of it as it fell.  The dense little kingdom was bustling with life however, new construction evident in many places, wrapped in scaffolding and tarps.  He finally understood what the thieves had meant by Lindblum having gotten off lightly.  If even after five years, they were still making slow inroads into the worst damaged parts of the city, Alexandria must have been hit very hard indeed.

And this was a /failed/ attack, he says? I'd hate to see a successful one.

"It looks as though the repairs are coming along well, doesn't it?"  He spoke more to cheer his unlikely little friend up than for any other reason.  Mr. Two-Seventy-Three continued to tug on the brim of his hat a moment before perking up a little.

"Yes, yes you're right. Queen Garnet is very thoughtful. She wants her people to be happy."

Laro was going to say something else to prompt the little man to explain more about the queen when his eye was caught by a bright sparkle at the top of the castle.  Half shrouded in a gigantic scaffold was what once had to be a Tower-sized white crystal obelisk.  Half of the giant shard lay horizontally on the roof of the palace broken into large chunks, but the base was still firmly upright, gleaming in the afternoon sun despite the network of timbers surrounding it.

"That crystal is enormous!"

"That is Alexandria's namesake, the crystal Alexander.  It's supposed to be ancient, older than the city itself."  Mr. Two-Seventy-Three spoke softly, also impressed by the massive shards. "When it stood tall you could see it for miles. It possessed a powerful guardian spirit, who could be summoned forth during the city's hour of greatest peril."

"What happened?"

"Princess Garnet summoned Alexander when Kuja came." The little man sighed sadly.  "Kuja summoned Bahamut, and the two spirits fought.  In the end Kuja won, but Alexander was still able to protect most of the city before the crystal was broken."

"So Alexander is dead?"  Seeing the giant shard laid waste was disheartening.

"Maybe. The people of Alexandria believe that if they can repair the crystal, than Alexander will return to them, that he will heal when the shard does."

Laro nodded. "That seems a good hope."

"Queen Garnet has her workers lift the pieces back into place one by one, and Zidane works his magic to reattach them to the base, but the work tires him a lot, so he can't do it very quickly.  My village tried to help once, but it was too hard for us."

"Zidane must be very powerful then."  He mused as he felt the ship descend out of the sky.

"He defeated Kuja." Mr. Two-Seventy-Three stated as if that somehow said it all. The little man then dusted himself off and bowed politely. "I need to go get my bag, we'll be landing soon! Good luck finding Zidane!"

Laro watched the large hat as it disappeared around the edge of the door and let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. 

I wish I could talk to you, kitten. I have so many questions, and I worry that I won't like the answers.

I didn't mean to have a goofy Laro vs Baku fight in this, but the thief refused to take no for an answer.

Next up. Laro vs. Zidane. Booh yeah. No, not with fists, Zidane would win by sneezing, sadly. Blond-boy is too strong for his own good. --Lunar


	27. If Chasing Shadows is All I Can Do

Feather Flight: If Chasing Shadows Is All I Can Do (part 27) 

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

Even when traveling with 'close personal friends of the queen', Laro found it took the better part of a day just to get in to the city of Alexandria. Pushed and pulled and stepped on and elbowed by the crowds at the docks, he almost wished for a little of the Mentor's hard shell. The insect was as unfazed about the throngs of people as it was about everything else. It might have been something to do with the fact that all but the most stubborn bystanders tended to leave the giant bug a little room as they went about their business. Even standing idle, the dark alien looked menacing to a casual observer. Laro sat down on a bench, and realized that his 'guides' had disappeared on him once again, vanishing down any number of side streets to search of gods-knew-what.

He tried to get his bearings, studying the various patrons of the wagon-wheel shaped marketplace. The large circular common was surrounded on all sides by shops, flower boxes and countless numbers of roads branching off into the rest of the city. Like all good castle-towns, at least one of the roads had to lead further inwards to the actual royal compound. The array of delicate towers off to his left gave him a potential direction to wander in. For the moment he was content just to watch everyone rushing by. A fair number of them seemed to be involved in construction, carrying wood, buckets of plaster, paint, all the essential tools for putting buildings back together. Several of the row houses they had passed showed signs of repair. In other places there were obvious gaps between buildings where something must have been too far gone to fix. Wildflowers grew where someone's shop must have once stood. The damaged city only reminded him of what the odd little man on the airship had told him about the war.

Alexandria started it, but not without help… from Kuja? But why? What would he have stood to gain? What made him turn on them later?

He didn't think he was quite so innocent as to believe it impossible for his lover to do something like start a war. But knowing him as he did, Laro had to wonder at the motivation. Masa was hardly one to exert himself over something trivial, not to the extent he had apparently done here. There had to have been a reason behind it all, but he wasn't sure where to start looking for it.

If he tilted his head just right, he could make out a glimpse of the famous crystal, hiding in the shadow of one of the castle's towers, and a fair amount of scaffolding. It was just as enormous as he had suspected from the air. Even broken off like a sword, missing over half its length, it was a part of the skyline. He could readily imagine how impressive it must have been when it stood tall. It would have been like a giant tower rising from the heart of the castle and high into the air above.

Pretty clear symbol of power on the part of its owners… not surprised the kitten broke it.

Masa had a knack for that sort of thing after all. Laro hid his smile, remembering the still-dazed attitude among the aliens he had briefly met on his voyage to this strange world.

The Selwe had escorted him to their teleportation platform in a state of calm disbelief, still not sure how exactly such a frail little mage had almost literally broken their greatest weapon across his knee. Their ship had been little better than shattered girders and buckled plates.

The people he watched here were a little similar in that regard. They had longer to come to grips with the damage, but he'd catch the older ones in particular, looking around them with a sort of lost expression, trying to figure out just where it had all gone so suddenly wrong. Picking up the pieces, he frowned; he would have a life-time of that to look forward to once he got home.

If I ever get home.

Slouching back against the bench, he realized he was tired. The novelty of everything was starting to wear him down more than he had expected. He let the sun soak into his sore shoulders and promised he'd continue his search for missing guides or princesses or Zidanes in a moment. If he ignored the weird smells of the market place and kept his eyes closed against the sight of his token Selwe or the even odder pedestrians strolling by he could pretend he was at home, lounging on the streets of his capital. People would be out and about on a day like today, shopping, eating, catching up with friends. Laro smiled, realizing that as the armies poured home there would be a lot more of that to come, friends reunited. That was a good thing.

Laro sighed and settled deeper into his bench, willing his worries to weight five more minutes before bearing down on him again. Idly he picked out the regular footfalls and jingle of gear that he would have casually labeled 'constabulary' at home. City guards patrolling the streets for pick pockets or afternoon drunks, generally just as likely to be window-shopping as scolding the wayward. The lock-step was a bit too formal sounding however. It drew closer, and then stopped, roughly across the street.

"What sort of monster is this? Surround it! Quickly!"

Laro sat upright, rubbing his forehead as he braced for the inevitable. A band of armored soldiers had formed a loose ring around his ally. The tallest of them, a man in particularly over polished gear, was waving a sword about in a vaguely demanding fashion. He pushed himself to his feet and wandered closer to overhear their discussion, signaling the Mentor to just stay where it was for the moment.

"Maybe we should just sort of-" One of the young men made a sort of 'shoo'ing gesture with his hands. "It out of town?"

"The heroic knights of Pluto do not 'shoo' monsters, Lieutenant. We dispatch them!"

"The heroic knights of Pluto couldn't dispatch a fly. Stand back, I'll take care of it. You lot go find a wheelbarrow to pick up the pieces with."

Laro blinked, admiring the no-nonsense tone of the woman's voice, and tried very hard not to admire anything else. It was rather difficult, seeing as the female soldier's armor cut off about two inches down her thigh and didn't start again until her boots. It was a novel sort of costume to be sure. He was certain that Dean Finlay would have a fit if she saw one of her scholars try dressing like that. Judging by the way the blonde woman held her sword he didn't want let her catch him grinning. She would likely try and impale him before he could explain that his preferences lay elsewhere. His interest was strictly from a military point of view.

Women in the army. And looking… like women.

Laro had to admit there was a certain dangerous appeal to the idea. Certainly the troopers surrounding his Mentor had no lack of self-esteem despite their bare legs and custom-molded breastplates, but he wondered if they ever got tired of being stared at. Maybe the men in this area just learned early on to stop looking.

While he was distracted, the male and female soldiers had fallen to bickering amongst themselves over their respective abilities. Apparently the squad was not a tight knit group. He took the opportunity to stand right next to the large 'captain' as he watched how the argument would end. The Mentor stood patiently as well, but then got bored and craned its head to try and find the castle's crystal again.

If Laro counted himself curious about the massive shard, his ally was positively fascinated by it. Twice so far he had called the bug back from just flying up to look at it up close. The last thing he wanted was an 'incident' with the alien trespassing all over some national treasure.

"Laro, may we see the shard now?"

The plaintive hiss certainly got the group's attention. He hid his smile behind his hand before replying. "Um, in a little bit. We're waiting for permission, remember?"

"I can hear it." The alien grumbled. "It is trying to communicate."

"With you?" Laro raised an eyebrow.

"No." The Mentor tilted its head, listening for whatever it was. "It is not one of ours. Its signal may be simply electro-magnetic radiation from the sun. I would like to investigate."

"It talks!" The man at Laro's elbow tottered backwards in belated shock.

"Yes. But he has no sense of humor worth mentioning." Laro offered a smile to the two guards closest to the bug. "Hate to interrupt, but I'm afraid the insect is with me."

"Are you its owner?" One of the Amazons gave him a cool look while the others considered the alien in disbelief.

Laro shrugged. "More like temporary business partners, actually. We aren't here to cause any trouble."

"What are you hear for, Mr.-" The armored knight recovered enough to bluster.

"Nazer." He offered. "Laro Nazer. You?"

"I am General Steiner of the Pluto Knights, joint commander of armed forces of Alexandria!"

"Joint commander?" Laro blinked in surprise. "And you're on street-patrol?"

Apparently his comment was worth a snigger from the various women. Laro noticed that the group really was split down the middle as far as gender and allegiance. The girls were in a loose phalanx behind the cool-faced blonde while the men were a little more disorganized but obviously siding with Steiner.

"I'm training subordinates." The soldier offered weakly.

"He's sticking his nose in, doesn't trust a woman to take over his old job." The woman disagreed cheerfully. "Captain Claudia, what business brings you to our fair city, Mr. Nazer?"

He absorbed the abrupt introduction and question while the other man sputtered. "I'm looking for someone actually, several someones now that my guides have run off."

"Guides huh? And they ditched you?" She gave him a knowing look. "They wouldn't happen to be Tantalus, would they?"

"Tantalus?"

"Tantalus?! They're back in town? Those dogs!" Laro spared Steiner a look and then followed Claudia's example of talking over the man as he fumed on some new topic.

"Steiner, put a lid on it will ya? Tantalus. Tantalus! Pack of sneaks and thieves from Lindblum." She clarified. "Leader is a fat headed old man named Baku. Bad dresser, purple beard, can't miss him."

"That's the one!" Laro agreed happily. "He was supposed to get me an audience with the queen."

"Was he?" Claudia gave him a worried look. "With that in tow?" She gestured at the Mentor.

"Well he could probably wait outside."

"How much did they charge you? Because I can tell you, you probably got gypped. Anyone can get into the audience at a general council session, if you just want to do the tourist bit and see her in action. You have to reserve a seat a day in advance though. Court ended about an hour ago for today, but if you hurry you might get a ticket to attend tomorrow."

"Actually I was hoping for a more private audience with her." He shook his head. "To be honest I just want an audience with Zidane, but I was told she was the best resource available when it comes to locating his current whereabouts."

Every time he mentioned the man's name, he was guaranteed an immediate reaction. Watching her carefully, he tried to see whether it would do more harm than good, and was relieved to see her relax a little.

"Zidane huh? Well he's not much into being gawked at by tourists, but if you're friends with Baku, he'll find a way to hold the monkey-boy down for you."

"Damn that Zidane! Always wandering off and leaving Queen Garnet alone! Doesn't he-" Steiner took a breath and was off again, causing various reactions among his team from worry to simple disgust.

"I take it he's not in the city?" Laro sighed, ignoring the shouting.

Claudia removed her helmet and smoothed her hair. "In the middle of summer? Not a chance. That boy's like a cat, I swear. He only comes indoors when the weather turns bad."

"Don't suppose you have any suggestions?"

"We'll escort you up to the castle, and then hand you off to the minister about trying to get an appointment." She shrugged.

"After that you're on your own as far as getting in to see the queen. All I care about is that way I don't get any more calls from merchants complaining that there are monsters wandering the streets." Claudia offered him a cynical smile. "Tell you what. If I end up picking up Baku and his cronies for drunken-disorderly later, I'll let them know where you went. If they can post bail, maybe they'll meet you at the castle."

"I'm much obliged, Captain."

"Hey tin-man!" She swung her helmet so it rattled off Steiner's breastplate, shocking him into temporary obedience. "I'm taking these two up to the castle, I'll be back to finish my patrol so don't wander off."

Claudia pointed at one of the other young women in armor, "Shelly, you're in command. If Steiner starts acting uppity just remind him that we report directly to Beatrix, and she's still pissed at him over the crumbs-in-the-bed incident last week."

Laro waited until they were out of the embarrassed-man's earshot before attempting to ask. "Crumbs?"

"Perks of having co-generals who are also married." Claudia sniggered. "It's a little weird at times, but has worked out for the best, we think. It would be better if the men weren't complete incompetents sometimes."

"So Beatrix is-"

"General Beatrix, Steiner only got his promotion after the war. She's been general for years. If you want to talk to the queen in private, you'll want to get on her good side."

"I'll keep that in mind." Laro followed the woman across the bridge and through the main gates to the castle.

As it turned out, the queen wasn't interested in granting an audience after dinner, and it didn't sound like he'd catch her tomorrow either. Laro ground his teeth in frustration as a rather stuffy sounding bird with a monocle explained to him that a delegation of important-personages from Cleyra were expected to occupy most of the woman's day. Any hopes that anyone knew where Kuja's wayward brother had gotten off to seemed pretty slim.

Laro found himself sitting idle on yet another bench, this one in the palace's generous waiting area, when his so-called 'guides' finally caught up with him.

"Oi, general, glad we finally caught up with you!" Blank settled down on the padded bench next to him with a sigh. "We've got some good news and some bad news."

"I've had nothing but bad so far, so it might as well be the good first."

The thief laughed in agreement. "Well Zidane only left a few days ago. He and the sprat, Eiko, were stopping off at her hometown and then wandering around one of the island chains north of there to look for new beasties for her to summon or something."

"Oh." Laro failed to see how it was good news. He didn't have the energy to ask who Eiko was.

"So we know loosely where he is, if you have to go looking for him. And it's not that far away, hey? Maybe another day by airship, then however long it takes to wander around a bit and find him."

"That is good news."

"Yeah, sometimes he goes west to the dead-lands, and nobody would want to fly you over there on the off chance you manage to spot one man in the middle of all that nothing." Blank shuddered at some memory.

"Heading north is easy." He continued, "You can probably charter a merchant to spend a few extra days. Also, if he has Eiko along for the ride, he probably took an airship rather than doing that 'zot' thing that he does when he's in a hurry."

"I don't want to know." Laro decided.

"Anyway, so yeah, the bad news is Garnet's booked solid for the next two days, so you can either charter something and try and find him yourself, or chill here a bit, and see if she can't call him for you, or at least tell you the name of the ship he left on."

"She can call him?" Laro sat up a little. "Can anyone call him?"

"Nope." The thief made a face, trying to explain. "It's magic. They've got… a thing. A connection. When she really needs him for something, somehow he just knows and 'zot' there he is." Blank shrugged. "Creepy if you ask me."

"He would know to fly back?"

"Fly? He probably wouldn't bother flying. He'd just come."

The other thieves nodded in glum agreement. "One minute he'll be someplace, and then he'll just disappear, and he'll be here a minute later. You know, 'Zot'." Suddenly Laro understood that the man was trying to explain the sound.

"He teleports?"

"Doesn't use a jar though."

What jars had to do with teleporting, Laro still wasn't clear on, but he let it slide. If Zidane could teleport between continents, he wondered if he could also go between worlds. It might explain how Kuja had ended up on his poor little planet like he did. It might also mean that he could possibly have a way home. "What are my chances of finding Zidane on my own, if I charter a ship?"

"Not so hot." Marcus confessed. "It'd be better if we knew the name of the boat. We could hail the captain on the radio as we went and track him that way."

"Versus waiting a day for an audience with the queen and hopefully getting an immediate response from the man."

"If you can convince her to call him, yeah."

"Maybe if you told Dr. Tot what you want to talk to Garnet about, he'd fit you in before breakfast or something." Cinna gestured to the bird-man as he trotted about on his business.

"Tried that." Laro sighed. "Now he probably thinks I'm tracking Zidane down for I.O.U.s or something.

Blank grinned. "You never did explain what you wanted him for in the first place."

"I was told not to tell that to anyone but him." Laro scrubbed his head tiredly, relishing his loose hair. The braids came out while his leg was still mending back at home. "I may reconsider those orders if there's no option tomorrow, but until then I'd rather not say."

"Fair enough." Blank swung his legs in amusement. "We can get you into the inn down town, no problems, is there anything you want to do before dinner?"

Humoring his patient alien, Laro pointed upwards. "Don't suppose we could get a peek at the crystal up close?"

"Don't see why not." The thieves looked up, thinking of their best approach. "Great view from the top of the castle. And hey, if you're lucky, you might just spot Garnet out for a walk."

Marcus rolled his eyes. "And if he's unlucky, Lady Beatrix will pound all of us into the walkway for daring to look at Garnet while she's out for a walk."

There was ample time to regret his decision to not head out and blindly search for Zidane as the next day dragged by. Laro sat on the long benches of the audience hall and watched as the courtiers filed past him, and then filed past him again. He had no better idea than to just wait for the off possibility that the queen might remember she had a few minutes to spare for a petitioner. Laro got plenty of strange looks for his obstinacy, and was grateful he had left the bug with the thieves. Whatever they were amusing the Mentor with, he hadn't heard any cries of alarm from the city, so he could only hope they were staying out of serious trouble. He just couldn't see going with them and playing tourist when he knew his only chance of getting to Zidane lay here at the castle.

Dr. Tot trotted past him for the thirtieth time on his way to lunch. His little bird legs looking tired from all his errands. He paused to offer him a sympathetic look. "If you're going to wait, at least make sure to eat."

"Meals would be the ideal time to catch a busy monarch." Laro disagreed.

"Well I'll have a girl bring you something. It won't do to have you pass out in the hall here." The man's chuckle sounded like a twitter, "It's unusual to see such dedication these days. Most young people would just send a letter."

"This isn't something that can be written down like that." He shook his head. "But I would take it as a kindness if you reminded her that all I need is information about Zidane's whereabouts. Surely that can't take her more than a moment."

"I shall try."

Laro stretched his legs out in front of him, mourning the spear that he hadn't been allowed to bring past the guardroom. He hadn't had to cool his heels like this since he was a lowly corporal in the army. He grinned, realizing how spoilt his promotions had made him. There were probably dozens of people in his situation every day back home. Hell, some of them were probably waiting for an audience with him. He resolved to check the hallways outside his office more often around lunch.

Hell I promise to give extensively to charity every year for the rest of my life… just let the damn woman acknowledge that I exist… so I can stop wasting time here.

A servant arrived with a little basket of food, for which he was very thankful as the afternoon stretched on. Even Dr. Tot seemed to be avoiding his customary staircase at the end of the hall in order to not have to apologize again. Laro took to pacing after dinner, counting steps up and across the room under the amused eyes of the guards. The shift change brought the enviable cough from the leader of the two. He was amazed that it was eight already.

"I'm afraid you'll have to try again tomorrow, Mr. Nazer."

"I'll be here." He replied grimly. "With bells on, if necessary." Retrieving his weapon and coat from the guardroom he wandered out into the night, still a little befuddled from spending his whole day indoors.

Luckily one of the thieves was there to greet him otherwise he would have gotten hopelessly lost on his way back to the hotel. After all day keeping his own company, he found their chatter to being too much, ducking out shortly after dinner to pace on the balcony before retreating to his room. The city went on about its nighttime business, the moon hanging half-full overhead.

It was hard to lay in his bed and will himself to sleep. All he wanted was to roll over and curl around someone, but a pillow made a poor substitute for who he really wished was there.

Somewhere far far away, Masa was also alone. He wondered if his lover was even well enough to note his absence. Laro hoped not. If he was to get home too late, he'd rather hear that Kuja had slipped away in his sleep rather than anxiously asking after a lover who'd stupidly gone. Realizing he was only depressing himself further, he ground the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to convince himself he was tired.

Forever offering useless ideas, the more creative side of his brain offered a plan to storm the council chamber. If he could just get to Garnet, he could get everything he needed from here in five minutes or less. He remembered the warning however. Claudia's words had been reaffirmed by his passing glimpse of General Beatrix as she strode across the hall early in the day. The woman didn't seem the sort to take a breach of security nicely, and didn't look half the pushover Baku was.

Laro wondered what it would be like to spar with her. Certainly she only had one eye. But her broadsword, and her reputation, spoke of remarkable talent. Her costume was also a little less avant-garde than her soldiers', a small mercy for his already overloaded eyes. He just didn't know where to safely look when the women came on duty for their shifts. The safest place was the faces, but with their steel-reinforced cleavage catching the lamp light did sort of draw the eye downward. The fact that half of them looked to be all of 20 years old boggled the mind as well. If the country hadn't been ruled by a woman he would have simply assumed the current ruler was having some fun with the uniforms. As it was, he was just perplexed.

Just goes to show I'm still a country bumpkin with delusions… obviously we must have had something like that back home once. I read a history book about a country that was entirely matrilineal.

Pondering countries ground-to-dust during the first years of the invasion only reminded him of the Selwe, which led him back to Kuja, and his inability to find Zidane. Ruthlessly he closed his eyes and reminded himself how very tired he was. It still took a painfully long time before morning came.

Not particularly rested, but very determined, Laro parted with the thieves at the gate of the castle. The way they happily hustled the Mentor away in their midst boded ill, but he had decided to play ignorant of their schemes with the bug. At worse it would either decide to clobber them, or fly away, and honestly he was hard pressed to care. They seemed able to take care of themselves, and one Mentor, away from his hive, couldn't cause that much trouble.

The guards waiting outside the council room doors recognized him from yesterday. He nodded back at them and settled himself in his spot, ready to wait out another day if necessary. Oddly, the warm bench in the hall was more conducive to sleeping than his bed had been.

Closing his eyes, he leaned against the drapes decorating the wall behind him and let himself drift. So tired that he felt a little wobbly, he could almost pretend he was on the ocean, lounging on deck of his little skiff while the water bobbed and rocked the boat beneath him. It would be a beautiful day to be out on the harbor, he mused. Just the distant line of the shore to give him his bearing, the baking warmth of the sun, someone lazily cuddled up along side him, napping as he fished.

Kuja loved fish. He had been pleased to discover. In their time along side the ocean they had consumed a fair amount of it, so really it was for the best. Deep-water fish, shark, bivalves, they had eaten it all at some time or another. His lover had proved particularly expert at daintily picking the meat from crab shells, something that most landsmen found an arduous chore. Then there had been the one time they had bought a couple raw oysters from the docks and Masa had made him blush by telling him the tasty shellfish were supposedly aphrodisiac.

Stupid, he should have taken him up on the tease. At the time he had been too unsure of himself to dare. The remembered taste of oysters fresh from the sea lingered, his stomach telling him that his breakfast was hardly worth the title. The bit of bread and odd flavored coffee he had snacked on before coming to the castle were but faint memories. He missed his coffee from home. Maybe it was just that they brewed it differently here, but it didn't taste the same at all. He missed his home in general, he found. As lively and new as Gaia was, he keenly felt its differences. The idea of staying forever left a sour taste in his mouth.

Then again I could spend the rest of my life in this waiting room…

The audience chamber's doors opened, signaling the recess after the first session. He opened his eyes to watch the brightly dressed courtiers stroll pass, going out into the bailey for some fresh air, or heading into the banquet room where food and drink were laid out. They all looked roughly the same as the courtiers back home, artfully done hair, brocaded clothing. There seemed to be more of a trend for stockings here, but those sorts of fashions happened everywhere. Laro remembered portraits of his previous King hanging in the gallery back in the capital. The man's bright yellow stockings and big-buckled shoes might have made him a cousin to Alexandria's Dr. Tot.

Shortly after the group filed back in to chambers, he wandered down to sample some of the food for himself. Sampling two of the breads, he decided to be adventurous and snagged one of the odd-looking fruits on his way back to his temporary home on the bench. He arrived to realize someone was waiting for him. The woman turned from studying his habitual spot and gave him a measuring look with her remaining eye.

"You're a stubborn one."

"My business is rather urgent." Laro stood firm under her gaze.

"You're a fighter."

"I was a soldier, yes."

"What do you do now?"

Laro rubbed his neck and smiled weakly. "Not much, actually. I'm searching for someone at the moment."

"Zidane."

"Yes."

Beatrix clucked her tongue. "Well you just missed him. It could be months before he staggers home again, longer if he decides to hang out with friends."

"You don't approve?"

"Not particularly." She half-smiled. "Alexandria needs an heir, and a Regent wouldn't be a bad thing either. Her majesty is adamant however that Zidane be allowed to be- well whatever he is."

"She loves him, I hear." Laro offered.

Beatrix smiled a little wider. "Yes, people do do some fairly crazy things for the sake of love, it seems."

Knowing the little he knew about her and Steiner, he wondered if maybe she wasn't also talking about herself a little as well. Deciding to be hopeful about the queen's closest companion paying him a personal visit, he tried his luck. "I don't suppose your being here is a sign that I might see her some time today?"

"Hmm, depends what you want to see her for." The uniformed woman tilted her head measuring him up. "She's certainly curious as to what you could possibly need Zidane for that would have you anxiously sitting here day in and day out."

"I'm afraid it's a message for his ears only."

"Hmph." The general crossed her arms. "Baku says you have need of Zidane's assistance with something. Is there a fight breaking out somewhere we don't know about?"

Laro blinked, remembering that his 'guides' had more backdoors into court than he did, even if they didn't or couldn't exploit them on his behalf. "I do need his help, but it's nothing like that. He has knowledge of certain things, and we need to ask about them, that's all."

"Things to do with Terra?"

The name made him pause. Kuja had mentioned it once or twice as the place he had come from. Given that he was just killing time until he found information on Zidane, trying to learn a little more about his wily lover seemed as good an idea as any. Laro nodded his head. "How did you know?"

"Zidane is hardly a world-renowned scholar. If someone's seeking his opinion on something, it's either concerning the more esoteric points of the last war, or they're treasure hunting." She gave him a candid look. "And you don't look like a treasure hunter."

"Never tried it." He agreed.

"I was there at the end." Beatrix mused aloud. "A fair number of us were, when the Iifa Tree went haywire and Zidane fought Kuja for the final time. They had already fought on Terra where Kuja had proven too strong to be defeated. Zidane escaped that time, rescuing many of the genomes as well. But when Kuja took over the Iifa Tree, they fought one again, and that time Zidane was the winner and Kuja was destroyed."

"I've heard very little about the battle itself." Laro couldn't help but be curious. "What happened?"

"Wasn't much to see, from the outside." She sighed. "We were throwing everything short of the bathwater at the silver dragons Kuja had summoned to protect the tree, trying to get close enough to blow the evil thing up. Zidane's ship, the Invincible, made it through the melee, and into, from what I understand, some sort of alternate dimension, of Kuja's creation."

"Where ever it was, it was destroyed during the final battle in a great explosion. My ship had his sister Mikoto on board, and some how she knew enough to guide the Hilda Garde III to fly down and rescue her majesty and his other allies."

She shook her head. "How they escaped the blast I have no idea, but from what I was told later Zidane was a damn fool. Rather than evacuating the damn tree, he turns around and darts back in, saying he's going after his brother. Everything got really weird for a little, and then when we looked back, the Iifa tree had quieted, and there was no sign of Zidane at all."

"So what do we do? Pick up the pieces, rebuild, rebuild some more, five years go by and nothing. Most of us thought him long gone along with Kuja."

"Obviously he wasn't." Laro mused.

"Yeah. Two years ago he just turned up one spring festival, like he'd just stepped out for the weekend. It was like seeing a ghost." She shrugged. "Never talked about what happened, or where he was, just said one moment he was with Kuja, the next, he was back at the base of the tree and came south as soon as he could."

"Five years, and he has no memory of them?"

"Well he's not exactly what he used to be." She acknowledged. "His magic is far stronger than it ever was, and I swear he doesn't age like the rest of us, but yes. It's as if the time never happened for him."

"Remarkable." Laro sighed. "What about Kuja?"

"He was apparently badly injured in their final fight and didn't survive. The man was completely mad by then. Not that he was all that well balanced back when I knew him, but something happened to him during those last months that really pushed him over the edge."

"You knew Kuja? Really?" That news was unexpected. Putting two and two together, he realized Beatrix had served under the old queen, and therefore she must have been Kuja's ally for some time before things had fallen apart. "What was he like?"

"Brilliant." She replied. "A little twisted, and definitely oversexed, but brilliant just the same." Raising her eyebrows at a memory she snorted at something long gone. "Polite bastard though. Never made a pass at me or the girls, which was unusual. We all pegged him as playing on 'the other team' but apparently he liked both the same, just didn't believe in mixing business with pleasure."

"Sounds an interesting fellow."

"He was." Beatrix nodded. "Compared to him Zidane is an idiot savant, but he gets the job done well enough. Mikoto is a bloody genius, but she's not as funny as Kuja was. Sure he was a bit of a misogynist, and prejudiced against non-humans, but he was very well read, and quick with a joke." She glanced at the clock. "And you've successfully managed to use my entire break with getting information out of me and not vice versa, damn it."

"I'm sorry." Laro meant it. He hadn't meant to distract her, but being able to hear impartial information about Kuja had simply been too tempting. "It was a fascinating story."

"Not many people are interested in Kuja these days." She flipped her hair over her shoulder and smoothed her coat. "Easier to vilify him and be done with it. Like one of those god-awful plays he was so fond of. And honestly, I think if he were here he'd love it. Playing the overblown villain was right up his alley. He was that sort of guy."

"Sounds like it." Laro smiled, privately having to agree with her assessment. Masa did have a flair for melodrama, after all. "I should stop distracting you from your duties. But if the queen could possibly spare a moment-"

"I'll know where to find you." Beatrix drawled, pointing eloquently at his bench. He bowed slightly as she left.

A war that slowly drove Kuja mad?

He mulled the idea over as he sat in the solitary splendor of the hallway. It didn't sound like the sort of nervous breakdown he himself had suffered on his escape from the Selwe. More like his kitten had started to slip as the pressure on him built. He wondered what it was that had made him angry enough to try to kill his own brother, to make war on several nations all at once, and by himself, from the sound of it.

Dr. Tot professed to be something of a historian, maybe if he could catch the bird-man after dinner, he could get the whole story out of him. The way Beatrix had said 'the more esoteric points' when she had guessed his reason for coming made him think that what he wanted to know was hardly common knowledge.

Perhaps Zidane is the only person other than Kuja who knows the whole of it; at least from both sides.

It only made him more eager to finally meet the man. Closing his eyes he resolved to nap until the court adjourned for lunch. There might be a chance he could sit inside the audience chamber when the queen was going through her list of petitioners for the day. If Beatrix was truly sympathetic, she might be able to slip him in at the end. If not… well there was always tomorrow.

Laro's first impression of Queen Garnet, was of closely-checked temper. He wasn't sure how he knew, but the hunch refused to be shaken. She was at her regal best while up on the platform in front of the room, but something in the way she tapped her fingers as she patiently greeted visitor after visitor with calm gentility gave her away. Without the official yoke of 'duty' around her neck he had no doubt she'd be tossing the dainty crown onto the carpet, kicking off her expensive shoes, and romping around on the grassy lawn outside like a school girl rather than the demure woman of twenty-five she was trying to present. No wonder she had taken for her own a self-professed gypsy prince. She probably lived his life of freedom vicariously.

He honestly felt sorry for the young queen as the current nobleman droned on about the merits of his little patch of land. She looked as though she was seriously weighing the possibility of having her general haul him off by seat of the pants. Comparing her to the young king back home was almost laughable. With his love of books and gears and old pottery, Laro's king was a meek as a mouse when it came to voicing his displeasure. The only thing the two monarchs seemed to have in common was the good sense to surround themselves with able advisors. He nodded politely at Dr. Tot as the little bird-man looked his direction. He had caught Beatrix whispering to the young queen as he slipped in the back, no doubt warning her that he was awaiting her pleasure.

It made for a more interesting afternoon than just cooling his heels in the hall, Laro gave it that much. One by one the major audiences were held, and the minor ones were done in sets of five to speed them along. Strictly there to watch, he didn't bother to stand with the other sitting around him. He could always make his obeisance later if it was required. She didn't seem the sort to stand on formality. Eventually Dr. Tot stood and gave his daily report on the goings on in the city, and others spoke about the repairs, and neighboring kingdoms, and finally at long last it was over. Laro stared out the window, surprised to note it was dinner-time already. He aimed a hopeful look at General Beatrix, and was pleased to see her discretely gesture that he could stay where he was when the others filed out.

"Beatrix says you were once a soldier, Mr. Nazer." Queen Garnet's voice sounded louder in the empty room. Not knowing what else to do, he stood and bowed to her before approaching the throne.

"My lady. Yes. I was until very recently a soldier. Perhaps I still am. I shall find out when I return home."

"You don't look like you're from Lindblum." She rested her chin on her hand, studying him. "Point of fact you look positively outlandish for anyplace I've ever been, and I've been some odd places."

"I'd wager you've never been to where I come from, your majesty." He couldn't help but smile. "It's rather far away."

"Where are you from?" The young queen leaned forward, curious.

"It may be hard to believe, your majesty. But I must confess that I come from another world all together."

"Another-" She paused, looking up at Beatrix with a frown before resuming her study of him. "Surely not from Terra. The 'Sleepers' all died when Kuja destroyed the planet. There were no survivors other than the ones Zidane and I rescued."

Kuja did _what_?

He forced his surprise down in favor of correcting her. "No, majesty, I am not from Terra, and know very little about the place other than what your general and the people from Tantalus have been kind enough to share with me."

"That's right, you were 'guided' here by the rogues, weren't you." She laughed. "Well they didn't steal the shirt off your back at least. So you can't have faired too badly at their hands."

"Are they truly that notorious?" He wondered.

"No, they're entirely harmless most days." She confessed. "And they've been good friends to me for many years now, so I have no right to tease them in front of strangers, but still, they do have a knack for parting people from their money."

"A queen calls her self a friend to bandits." He couldn't help but be entertained. "That is truly the most remarkable thing I've heard yet, and I find this world full of remarkable things."

"So you are from another world –not Terra- and you seek audience with my husband," Garnet mused aloud. "Might I enquire why?"

"I'm afraid, majesty, that I promised faithfully to only tell Zidane."

"I can hardly summon him home with simply 'someone wants to see you urgently', Mr. Nazer." She smiled ironically. "My husband isn't the most… responsible of men when it comes to idle engagements. If I were to tell him that someone's life hung in the balance, for example, then he would be back as fast as wind could carry him. Otherwise, he's just as likely as to finish his current hunt before wandering home."

"If you'd just tell me his ship, I would be willing to go look for him myself, and be no trouble to you at all." Laro countered.

"Call me crazy, but I'm a little protective of him." Garnet studied him thoughtfully. "I'd rather not get in the habit of sending petitioners chasing him all over the globe. He goes out to get away from people, not to be hunted by them."

"I assure you, your majesty, if it wasn't vitally urgent, I would happily wait for his return." Laro sighed. "As it turns out, someone's life may very well be at risk by my delay. We aren't certain that Zidane _can_ help us, but we couldn't stand by and do nothing, so I am here to make an attempt."

"This is about Kuja somehow, isn't it."

Beatrix's comment caused an immediate silence in the room. Her queen's face went white with surprise. Dr. Tot literally fluffed out around the collar like a bird badly shocked, looking twice as large as usual. Laro stared at her in disbelief. The woman was watching him with another of her unreadable looks.

"What are you talking about, Beatrix?" Garnet murmured.

"He was asking about the end of the war, earlier in the hall way. And about Kuja." The general replied thoughtfully. "I thought it was interesting. And now I'm wondering if his sudden need for Zidane isn't some how related."

"Is it true?" The young queen stood, staring down at him with hard eyes. "Do you bring news of Kuja?"

"I-" Laro hesitated, not wanting to be slapped. It was obvious that while Beatrix's interest in the man was fairly clinical, Queen Garnet was less than pleased with the idea of Kuja, dead or alive. Still, he was not politician enough to have an easy lie ready. He sighed and decided to go along with it. "Yes. I've come about Kuja. But I really must talk to Zidane about it."

"He's dead." She muttered to herself, then looked at him for confirmation. "He's dead. He died five years ago when the Iifa Tree turned on him. He died along with his master. Right?"

His master?

The memory struck him between one breath and the next.

_"__Garland__… he was the one in charge. He gave orders, and we obeyed. Well, _they_ did. I have always had a contrary disposition."_

"He's dying." Distracted he corrected her.

Garland was the one ordering him to fight? But that only confuses things more! Why would that make poor Masa become unbalanced? Then again, he was unhappy to ever talk about the man, even a little. Maybe it was more than just 'orders', something more evil.

Someone compelling Masa to do something by force? The idea made him furious. He pushed the confused emotions away promising to find out the truth later. Looking up he realized what he just said hadn't gone over well.

"Dying." Garnet clenched her fist, looking like she really would lash out at him. "As in _still alive_?! All this time? Still alive?!"

"Garnet." Beatrix stepped forward to catch her queen's elbow. "I think we ought to hear the whole story, don't you?"

"Oh!" The younger woman cried. "Oh yes! I agree. I am dying to know the whole story."

Pointing at Laro, she directed him into the closest chair with the strength of her glare. "Sit!"

With his weapon locked away, and Beatrix watching to see if he'd bolt. Laro decided he had nothing to hide, and settled where he was bid to. "I'm afraid I won't have much in the way of answers for you."

"Explain what you do know, then."

"Kuja came to my world-" He paused, counting the months, "About a year and a half ago." Silently he was amazed it had been so long. "He was badly injured and unable to speak for himself at first, so we took him in and cared for him as we would anyone in need of help."

Laro shrugged up at the trio of curious eyes. "When he recovered he wasn't very fourth coming about his past, but was always polite, and helpful, and so won many friends."

"It wasn't until very recently that we discovered he was a mage of considerable power. He-" Not knowing the right words for the horror of that afternoon, Laro had to stop. It was better not to go into detail, perhaps. "He took a great injury onto himself, to save my army, my country, perhaps the world. So yes, he is still alive, but we fear it won't be for long. I came here to try and find a cure. I didn't know anything of your troubles with him until after I arrived."

"Kuja, saved your army?" Garnet's expression went from fury to disbelief. "That's ridiculous. That man was the most selfish, amoral bastard in the universe. You must be mistaken."

"Forgive me lady, but I am not."

"He was just using you. He was probably going to stab you in the back next."

"We don't believe that." Laro shook his head, "My country was willing to stake a great deal on sending me here because we felt he was worth the effort."

"Kuja."

"Yes."

"_Kuja_!"

He winced at her ire.

"How did he get there in the first place?!"

Back on safer ground, Laro breathed a small sigh. "That I don't know. From what little he told us, we think Zidane sent him somehow?"

"Zidane." Garnet's voice was practically a growl. "That- That- Gah! Bastard! How dare he! After all we went through-"

"Maybe he didn't want to upset you." Dr. Tot cringed when her glare was turned his direction. "Maybe he just thought you'd never find out." His follow up was a weak whimper.

"Did YOU know?"

The bird-man frantically shook his head. Garnet turned to Beatrix. "What about you?!"

"I would hardly have left the job half finished." The woman didn't even flinch.

Closing her eyes, the queen took a deep breath and began muttering to herself. Laro caught the whispered "Zidane get your lazy butt back here on the double, I'm not dealing with this by myself when it's all your fault!" Letting the rest of her breath out with an explosive sigh, Garnet rubbed her forehead. "Suddenly I've lost my appetite."

"Maybe we should retire to your private audience chamber?" Dr. Tot tentatively suggested.

"Yeah. I'm going to get changed before my idiot husband gets home." She stretched as if preparing for a duel. "Beatrix, don't lose our guest. I still have some questions for him."

"Yes your majesty." The woman had the balls to look amused at her mistress's recent tantrum.

"That's gone and done it." Laro sighed sadly. "Now I know why I wasn't supposed to mention Kuja's name in front of her."

"Bah. More excitement than she's had since Zidane popped up in the middle of Act II. It ought to keep her from complaining about boredom for a good month or six I think." The general offered prosaically. Garnet had slipped out a private door at the back of the room, but they went out the main doors like everyone else. Laro almost tripped over Blank where he crouched. The man had obviously been listening at the door. Marcus was there as well, empty glass tucked guiltily behind his back.

Beatrix glared at the group of lounging thieves. "How much did you hear?"

"Dagger –erm Garnet- was shrieking something about Kuja?"

"That's it?" She picked blank up by the front of his vest and hauled him several inches off the ground so they could stare eye to eye. "You're certain you didn't hear anything of Mr. Nazer's message?"

"Nah. He was talking too softly!" Blank looked down at the floor anxiously. "Come on, Beatrix, you know how lousy sound carries out here into the hall… besides, even if we did hear something, we wouldn't snitch on you. You're scary."

"Damn right." She dropped him. "If I hear so much as a rumor on the streets in the next day concerning _that_ name, I will know where to find you lot."

Steiner chose that instant to trot around the corner, full armor clanking like a locomotive. "My darli- erm General Beatrix, dinner is almost ready, I was wondering if you might join me."

The thieves sniggered in amusement. Laro had to admit privately that it was pretty funny. Obviously the large blustery man must have some hidden charms to have successfully courted and won Beatrix's affection.

She spared her husband a thoughtful look. "Forgive me, 'Bert, but I have some business to take care of for the queen and so will be a little late."

"Is it this ruffian again?" Steiner glared at Laro, who genuinely felt bad to be interrupting the man's dinner.

"No dear, but he's wanted upstairs. Could you do me the favor or escorting our friends from Tantalus to the door? They've out-stayed their welcome." Turning to where Blank was still grumbling and dusting himself off, she offered a sweet smile. "I promise to return Mr. Nazer to you at the hotel after dinner."

"What about the bug?" Marcus wondered. "It's waiting outside."

"He might be able to explain a little more about how we got here." Laro offered.

"Fine, send the creature in on your way out." She pursed her lips. "Steiner, when you're done, could you be so thoughtful as to pop down to the kitchen and tell them to keep some dinner by for us? I think Zidane may be coming home shortly, and I know after the meeting is over, I for one will be starving even if Garnet and Tot aren't."

"Of course, my love." The knight replied gallantly as he caught Marcus by the scruff, and Cinna by the belt, pulling them towards the door. "I shall await thee in our rooms with such tempting morsels that might befit your taste buds."

Then again, he might have won her heart just on his sheer obliviousness to the fact that she's the scariest woman on the planet.

Laro grimly acknowledged. He wondered that it wasn't like sharing quarters with a lioness. Perhaps she mellowed out in private, but looking at her as they climbed the stairs, he decided that this probably _was_ mellow for her.

She dropped him off in a sitting room with a view of the castles rooftops. He was immediately drawn to the sight of the crystal, seeing it up close only once was not enough. It was too much to take in all at once. In daylight it sparkled, opaquely silver, at sunset it looked like it was on fire.

The Mentor joined him at the window, observing the phenomenon with its multifaceted eyes. Curious, he wondered what the alien could see. "Anything of interest?"

"Transmission energies have increased 40% from yesterday's levels." The Selwe critiques with modest interest. "It is now actively broadcasting in three separate phase bands."

"What does that mean?" Laro hated to ask.

"Data transfer in progress." The mentor guessed.

Staring as they both were at the shard, they could hardly miss it when the stone flashed bright white for a moment, followed by a rather distinctive popping noise. Blinking furiously, Laro tried to make his eyes work, and then wondered that maybe he was seeing things after all.

Backlit against the sunset, a lean looking man stood between their window and the crystal. Pausing to stretch his arms above his head, shrug and then turning to walk their direction. Dazed, the first thing Laro's brain decided to register was the fact that the young man came equipped with a long, curling tail.

Garnet stepped around him to open the latch, showing that his window doubled as a door. "Zidane! You bastard, when were you planning on telling me Kuja was still alive?!"

The young man stepped through onto the carpet before her words sunk in. Because he was already half way through bending down to kiss her before he changed his mind and stood abruptly upright in shock. "What's this?"

"KUJA!" She lifted the skirts to her informal dress and kicked him violently in the shin.

Any pretense of grace fell apart as the man cried "Hey!" and tried to dodge the second swing aimed at his vulnerable legs. "Stop that! I just got here! Can't a man hear the reason before he's assaulted?"

"You just did!"

"Alright, well let me understand it first then." Zidane complained rubbing his sore leg. "You're barefoot? Damn it Dagger your feet are like bricks!"

"Hey!" She glared at him.

"Cute bricks." He temporized.

Standing up right, the man removed his dusty outer coat to reveal a set of handsome leathers and a pair of matched knives the size of machetes underneath. "Hello Beatrix, long day?"

"The first three acts were rather dull, but this last one is promising to be a doozy." The general seemed amused to treat their little drama like it was some sort of play. "Drink? You're going to need it. I've distracted Steiner with a quest for food so that will be up later."

"Thanks." Using his wife's shoulder as a prop, Zidane pulled off his boots and dropped them carefully by the window so he wouldn't track dust around the room. "Dirty work, hunting eidolons."

"Did you find anything?" Garnet allowed a ceasefire as she helped him strip off his weapons and another layer of jacket. She even allowed him his 'welcome home' kiss with minimum fuss.

"A few leads. We only just started, woman, these aren't things you accidentally trip over on your way to the toilet you know." She 'tisk'ed him and called him rude, which only earned her a devilish grin.

Down to his travel stained shirt and leather trousers, Zidane looked far thinner, younger, as he turned to notice Laro for the first time. The man's eyes flicked from him to his Mentor with innocent curiosity. "What's all this then?"

Laro was hard pressed not to stare. The resemblance was striking. Taller, to be sure, golden and tan where Kuja was fair, but there was the shape of the eyes, the nose, the lithe build of the man. If not for the slightly squarer chin, adding some much-needed masculinity to the otherwise androgynous face, he could have mistaken them for twins. Zidane's mop of dark gold hair fell long in the front but was clipped close against his neck.

Garnet was kind enough to do the introductions. Although Laro wasn't sure if kind was the word, she was still looking at him like he was bad news in boots. "This is Mr. Laro Nazer, and his… travel companion. They've come a rather long way to see you, Zidane."

"Have they?" The young man reached up to untie his neckerchief and loosen his collar. "How do you do?"

"They've come to talk to you about _Kuja_, Zidane." Garnet saved Laro the bother of introducing the topic, her sour mood returning full force. "They say he's still alive."

"Oh." Kuja's brother accepted his drink from Beatrix, downing it in one toss before handing it back to her. "Be a love and make another of the same?"

"Shall I just double it, or would you like the bottle." She joked.

"You said he was _dead_, Zidane." Garnet didn't appreciate being ignored.

Her husband gave her a tentative look. "Actually, I think I said 'he's gone' if we're going to be spitting hairs over it. So I never _actually_ lied to you, really."

If Zidane was trying to stay out of trouble, even Laro could tell he wasn't going about it very well. The queen gave him a long look. "Deliberately obscuring the truth is worse!"

"Well you were never to find out one way or the other! What difference does it make! He's still gone!"

"Yes but what if he comes back!" she hissed.

"Why the hell would he?" Zidane gave her a confused look.

"Revenge!"

"Against who? Me? He's not that stupid." The man shook his head, "And really, once he calmed down and realized what he was doing, he didn't even want to kill me then either. No point."

"But-"

Zidane put two fingers on her lips to hush his wife. "Do me a favor love, and let me hear the message first? If they've come from him, then they must have come a wicked long way." She settled for glaring, too much of a lady to talk with someone's hand on her mouth.

Laro was struck again at how similar their eyes were. Masa's were the exact same impossible shade of blue, but had never been this expressive. The thought left him feeling clumsy and lost, rather than as professional as he had hoped to be. "Your brother is dying. We need your help if we are to save him."

"Save him?" Zidane murmured. Moving abruptly, he yanked Laro down into a chair and pulled another close enough to sit opposite him. Garnet was given the same rough treatment, tugged down onto his lap without a thought for propriety. The young man's sudden intensity was captivating though, preventing anyone from doing anything in complaint.

"Now," He demanded gently, "Explain."

Poor Steiner. I looked it up. His real name was Adelbert Steiner… ouch. I don't know that Bert is that much better, but Beatrix seems the sort to save a body's full name for when she's pissed. I live in fear of what their children would be like.

I'm almost fairly positive that I've just created a big timeline rift with this chapter, I was lazy about figuring out the math before as far as when the war ended and how long Zidane was gone…. Doesn't matter, I'll go back and fix things to match this chapter later.

I've also been misspelling Iifa Tree here and there. Will go back and monkey with that as needed later too.

There was supposed to be a side scene with Blank and the Mentor and some sort of hair-brained money making scheme. But I decided I wasn't that interested… and my little Kuja figment has been chanting 'get on with it' for a few months… so yeah, lets just assume that hi-jinks ensued.

Time seems rather subjective for Zidane, and certainly doesn't flow at the same speed on different worlds (at least in this AU universe). I'll see if I can't explain it a bit better in the next chapter.

-- Lunar.


	28. Let Them Lead Me Back Home

Feather Flight: Let Them Lead Me Home (part 28) 

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

Laro wasn't sure what he had been expecting when he had been told they were going to see 'Mikoto.' He had talked himself empty the night before, talked through dinner, answered questions until later still, even the Mentor had been gently grilled for information. The whole time Zidane had just stared at them, curious, almost a little in awe, at all they had recounted.

When at last there was nothing else to tell, Laro had watched him for a long minute, this man who looked so much like his absent lover, as he thought a moment. The queen had given up on them for fools and retired, her general had gone and comeback again, apparently too fascinated by the story to stay with her husband. Dr. Tot's stamina had been the strongest, barely showing any sign of exhaustion as he avidly studied them all. At length Zidane turned away from his study of the distant crystal shard, and just as bemused as when he started, declared that they needed to consult with Mikoto; that she would know what to do.

Laro still wasn't sure whether he felt relieved that Zidane was going to help, or furious that there wouldn't be some sort of immediate action. Rather than racing home to the rescue, he found himself escorted to a bedroom, and told they would make plans to leave in the morning, to see Mikoto. Apparently she was the one who held the answers, for good or ill. Certainly Masa had mentioned the name once or twice, but Zidane's help, he was able to fill in some of the blanks. Mikoto was a sister. Well, as much of one as Zidane might be seen as a brother. Zidane had wondered aloud about how Kuja hadn't just told him to seek her out in the first place, and then shook his head, wondering if his brother even knew that she survived. He left Laro with the confusing bit of information as he retired to his own rooms for the night, and while he didn't have nightmares, the dark man's dreams were full of the strange words tha Zidane had used to try and explain his heritage, Kuja's heritage.

Artificial inception, selective mutation, cloning, the words had little meaning for him. The idea that someone could assemble someone else as if baking a pie or building a house, was deeply disturbing. He had plenty of time to digest the concept as the airship bolted across the sky the following day. While Gaian society was markedly behind his own in terms of technology, it seemed like Kuja's birthplace was easily comparable to the Selwe. A race of people able to manipulate the forces of life itself, to create new species through science, it felt macabre.

Laro spent most of the trip on deck. Still not comfortable with the view of hundreds of feet of air beneath him, but still happier in the face of the elements, the certainty that he was /flying/ than to calmly sit in the stuffy cabin with a crew of feasting thieves, bored crewmen, and an alien who was the closest thing to a friend he could point to that wasn't just a star in the heavens.

They had left Alexandria late in the morning, Zidane kissing his wife goodbye as she watched them go. Laro had a hunch he hadn't made an ally with the young queen, and couldn't bring himself to care. With any luck he'd never see her or her charming city ever again. Homesickness was becoming an almost physical pain the longer he stayed away. He hadn't had the courage yet to ask Zidane if it was even possible to go home. He didn't want to hear the young man's answer if it wasn't. Home only made Laro look upwards again. Day had gone by fast as they sheered over mountains and now waves, leaving him alone with the moon, and a vast array of distant stars. The Mentor had tried to explain how each and every light was potentially someone else's sun, and that somewhere, out there, his own sun might be twinkling, or more likely, was too dim and far away to even see. On the one hand, Laro was awed that they even survived the trip, on the other it only magnified how impossible it would be to succeed in getting back again.

"You an astronomer, Laro?" Zidane invited himself out into the fresh air. Unlike Kuja, he made no effort to hide his tail, using it as a third hand to shut the door behind him while he fiddled with his coat. He wondered to himself if Kuja and his siblings were more monkey like than cats. Certainly he'd never seen his lover demonstrate any particular facility with his tail. It had always just seemed a tail. It also seemed something a bit to personal to ask about when just meeting someone. Zidane didn't notice his distraction, adjusting his scarf against the breeze.

"Bit cold when traveling as fast as we are. Isn't it? Crazy stuff, steam power."

"It was a staple back home." Laro murmured, looking back at the depressingly distant sky. "That and diesel, when we still had access to it, and bits of electromagnetic technology we cobbled together from things salvaged from the Selwe."

"What's diesel?" The man frowned, "All we have is steam, and that's pretty cutting edge right there… I know some guys in Lindblum who'd love to talk to you if you think you have a better idea."

"A flammable liquid that wells up from the earth sometimes." Laro wracked his memory. "It's refined and used to power engines." He shrugged, "I'm not the person to ask unfortunately. Try the bug. His people are centuries beyond anything mine might manage."

"No offence, Laro, but your bug creeps me out." Zidane smiled dryly. "I've spent years cleaning out nests of things that might have been his bigger, uglier brothers and sisters that Kuja left behind during the war. It's a little disorienting to talk to one that has a higher vocabulary than I do."

"That makes two of us." Laro rubbed his face, feeling the cold for the first time. "Blame Kuja for the vocabulary too, if you like. I think it was his doing."

"Figures." The man didn't sound particularly upset.

Moonlight washed a great deal of the color out of Zidane's hair as he leaned over the railing to check on the sea below. For a moment it was almost silver-white as it hung around his face. Laro stared, mesmerized by the almost-familiarity of it. When the bangs were brushed back, Zidane giving a frustrated sigh as he tidied his mop behind his ears, the likeness was destroyed.

Laro tried not to sigh at the loss, and got a suspicious look for his efforts. Zidane studied him for a moment and then resume his study of the waves. "Still can't believe that it's only been a year or so for you. I have no idea how time works where you are, but that's really crazy. A year. Damn. And he's already saving the world, making friends, doing deeds." The blond shook his head. "You're like, his best friend, right? Never thought I'd see that. Not someone like you, anyway. I met one or two people here who knew him, before the war started. They were all either deluded, petty, or just shallow bastards. Users, you know? You don't strike me as that sort."

"I hope I'm none of those things." He laughed. "I'd like to think I'm a good person. And yes, I count him a very dear friend. He-" Not knowing particularly where to put his eyes so that they wouldn't betray him, he settled on the black smudge growing on the horizon, their destination apparently. "He's prickly sometimes, but he doesn't mean to be, I think. He can be incredibly attentive to those he cares about."

"Seven years for us, two for you." Zidane leaned on his arms, still amazed by the disparity. "Well, two for me too. But then I am apparently out of synch with everyone else with the years after the war."

The younger man shook his head. "It's not like I didn't think about him. I've actually thought about him a lot, since then. For several reasons. But there were so many other things going on. I had hoped he was happy, wherever he ended up. But it wasn't like I could change anything."

"Why did you do it?" Laro remembered to ask. He had wanted to as soon as he had heard the story, Zidane's abbreviated yet compelling account of the history of the war, and it's ending.

The question hadn't seemed politic at the time, not with an audience of strangers, and a very unhappy wife. It was a wonder she hadn't thrown crockery. He was pretty sure he saw her considering it. Laro only hoped that he hadn't done some sort of permanent damage to their relationship in bringing Kuja's name up after so long. Judging by her sour but more relaxed face earlier this morning, he was vaguely confident Zidane had things in hand. Laro saw that Kuja's brother was confused by the question and tried to frame it in a more sensible way.

"I mean, you could have rescued him and kept him here. Or even just have left him to die. Or done as Beatrix would have, and killed him, after all he had done to you, your country; it wouldn't have been out of the question. So why send him to us? Not that we're ungrateful, mind, but it seems a random thing to have done."

"You speak rather callously about your friend." Zidane glanced at him with a very Kuja-like smirk. "How do you think he'd feel if he heard you pondering his demise?"

"I'm sure he has wondered the same," Laro shrugged. "Kuja always considers his options; at least as long as I've know him. He lives his life with a very clear awareness of cause and effect."

"Yes, he did." The shorter man made a face. "Does still, by the sound of it."

He shifted to look Laro in the eye. "He thought too much. I think. That was half his problem. He felt things, just as much as I did, but he never acted on them. If he was convinced that escape was futile, he would never try to escape. If he was convinced that the only way to succeed in a plan was to destroy something he thought was precious, he'd destroy it. Mourn it later maybe, but still, it wouldn't stop him."

"Garland played him." Zidane gripped the rail harder than strictly necessary, obviously remembering something. "He played me too, but I've never been sensible, or logical, or reasonable. When I get mad I pick fights, when I love something I do crazy things to try and protect it. 'It ain't over until it's over' and all those great clichés, that's me."

Laro blinked, watching the play of emotions across the handsome face. Masa had rarely been so open, either too reserved, or too paranoid, to let his feelings loose. They were like night and day, the pair of them, a strange thing to see. "And so you won. But why spare him?"

"I won because I wouldn't take no for an answer." Zidane crammed his hands into his pockets. "And because he wanted me to, when all's said and done. And because Garland had fucked him over from day-one and he had nothing to fight that with, no backup plan for that sort of thing."

The young man smiled painfully. "His whole life he fought for someone he despised, lived with being humiliated, isolated, abused and neglected by the one person he felt he ought to measure himself by, because he thought that if he just got strong enough, he could beat the bastard at his own game, only to realize at the finish there was no game, and that Garland had planned all along that he was going to die anyway. That he had been designed to not 'out last his usefulness'. When I think about it that way, hell, I'd have been furious too. I'd have wanted to make people suffer just as much as he did."

Laro tried to understand what it must have felt like, but really there was no comparison. The only synonym to Garland's position that came to mind was 'god', and that left a sour taste on his tongue. The man certainly hadn't acted like anything he would want to bow down to; a capricious and cold hearted deity. If Garland was a god, then what was Kuja but the servant used and cast away? The hurt and anger Kuja must have felt; one final betrayal on top of a lifetime of others. Little wonder why he was unbalanced by the end. All that rage and frustration, combined with his unbelievable magical gifts, yes that was a recipe for mayhem.

He remembered how Kuja had first stared at him, frightened, angry, distrustful, seeming bitterly amused by his first attempts at friendship. Maybe the long sleep after his arrival had healed his mind, for he hadn't seemed vicious or dangerous at all. Masa had just been quiet, and withdrawn, as if ashamed of enjoying the friendship they offered him.

Such a terrible secret for his little love to keep, Laro winced. If Masa had truly remembered everything, he must have felt horrified that anyone would discover his past. To be rejected and cast aside a second time, no wonder Kuja had clung to him so tightly, no wonder he lied about forgetfulness. His eyes, beautiful as they were in the beginning, had been the eyes of a man who had given up trusting anyone, loving anyone. He had expected nothing but the worst.

It was a small wonder he had managed to change that, even a little. A point of pride amongst his usual feelings of failure, Laro sighed. Masa's brother kept talking, more to himself, Laro thought, than to the question asked. He didn't dare interrupt however, knowing that he'd probably never get a chance to hear this point of view on his lover again.

"It was weird, when I found him there, at the end." Zidane bit his lip. "I mean, yeah I'm no great shakes at thinking things through. But he was tapped out, completely vulnerable. I'm not Beatrix, I don't really have it in me to strangle someone who can't fight back, especially not when they know they've lost, and probably only have a few months to live anyway."

"That's what Garland had said." He rubbed the back of his neck. "We all thought it meant Kuja was aging prematurely or something, that his heart would just give out one day. Should have asked, or something. Shouldn't have just taken him at his word. I mean shit, if I had even thought for a minute, I might have realized that it was probably cureable but I didn't. All I could think of was how bloody unfair it all was, you know? Here's me, by some freak chance –Kuja dumping me on Gaia to be rid of me, actually- I had a future, and friends, and I could walk away with barely a scratch on me."

"And there there's him. Stuck holding the bag, just because he did everything Garland ever asked of him. Sure he tried to rebel in his own way, but it wouldn't have mattered. He was either an embarrassing leftover, or an evil maniac or both, depending who would write the ballads later. The thing that just went over and over in my head as I sat with him there was 'that could have been me'. Not just hypothetically, not in that vague 'well we're all same' sort of way."

"No, literally. That would have been me." Zidane made a face. "If I had stayed in Brambala, if I had been raised by Garland, I would have turned out exactly the same. I'd have been just a glorified killing machine with a pulse, bitterly accepting my lot in life because I wouldn't know how to break free."

"So in a crazy, stupid, accidental way, Kuja saved me from all of that; selfishly, hell yes. The last thing he wanted when I came along was competition for the tiny slice of salvation he was aiming for. But at the end, we were waiting to be crushed to death by this 'thing', and he figured out how to escape, and told me. He said I deserved a happy ending, that heroes always got to go home."

"There he was laying there, fully planning on being left behind, and I told him no f'ing way, and dragged him along with me." Kuja's brother laughed a little at himself. "But then what could I do? We couldn't both have happy endings. He couldn't come home with me, they'd have killed him. Even leaving him with Mikoto, he'd have wished he was dead."

"So I asked the Crystal, how I could make things right. I figured, what have I got to loose, you know?"

"The one in the castle?" Laro wasn't sure how a piece of rock was supposed to give metaphysical advice, but both Kuja and now his brother spoke about crystals as if they were near sentient things.

"Nah, Kuja blitzed that one good. It was just a shard compared to the real thing." Zidane scratched his head. "The real crystal… it's like… Hell it's probably not a crystal at all, that's just how it looks to me."

"I guess you could call it 'god' but that's not really right either." He mused aloud.

"It just exists, you know, and it exists to create things. It is a source of life, all life, everywhere, maybe, I don't know. Ask Kuja, he'd be able to explain it better. Doesn't matter. But it likes me, you know? And I figured it'd forgive him since in a round about way, it was his source too."

"It was the Crystal that told me to send him away. That it'd be alright. That he would land someplace where nobody would hate him on sight."

"It chose the destination. I just pushed." The cat man caught his tail, and smoothed over the fur, distracting himself with the commonplace. "I just wanted him to have some peace and quiet, not shove him into another war."

"Maybe it sent him where he was needed." Laro shrugged. "Who's to say? Whatever the reason, we have been very glad to have him. I didn't come here to tell you to take him back, I- we- just want him healthy again. We didn't know where else to turn."

"We'll see what Mikoto says." Zidane let go of his tail and pointed down at the fast-approaching coast. Moonlight caught on tiny beaches as the breakers rolled in.

"She's going to be pissed as hell to hear that I lied about him being dead, but once she gets over that, there's nobody smarter when it comes to genomes. If it's fixable, she'll know what to do."

They slid down ropes into the small square at the center of the village. Laro would have seen nothing at all of the settlement if not for the lantern light showing from under the trees. He couldn't blame the airship's pilot for not wanting to attempt a landing in the dark. The old trees were silent towers all around and he was very happy to set both feet on land once again. His alien fluttered to ground under its own power, looking around at the tall thatched buildings with interest. Various doors opened, people peering around them and out windows as their sudden arrival. Half of the curious eyes glowed in the flickering light, much to Laro's dismay. It wasn't until a set of them clattered closer holding a lantern aloft that their owners were recognizable.

Staring at the small crowd of podgy little men with gloves and tall straw hats, Laro didn't wonder that they seemed familiar. Instead he tried his best to figure out how to tell them all apart. With general variations in color, cut and style, every single one of them looked rather like the odd little fellow he had met on his way to Alexandria.

"Who goes there?" One of them raised his lantern to peer owlishly up at the insect while others flexed their fingers in a way that managed to be both cute and vaguely threatening.

Zidane abandoned his rope halfway down to land with a deft back-flip and "Tadah!"

Their welcome changed from worried to delighted in the span of a moment, the group of roly-poly people gathering around the young man with happy noises. "Zidane! Why do you come in the nighttime? Why do you bring others?"

"Yes yes I know. There's nothing wrong, let me explain! They're guests, do you think you can find us all rooms for the night?" The man laughingly placated them, patting them here and there as he directed the crowd back towards the light of one of the porches.

As the cry went around others emerged from the little houses, both with hats and without. Laro caught sight of the first of Zidane's kind out of the corner of his eye, sprinting along a rooftop path before dropping behind a building out of sight. Two more emerged from around a corner, observing them with interest. They were all dressed in a variation on what the crowd was wearing, but were otherwise uniformly blond haired and long tailed. They hung towards the back as if shy of their welcome.

His staring did not go unnoticed, and Laro turned with a tug on his arm. Zidane was grinning merrily. "What, you thought Kuja and I were the only ones?"

Of course he had decider there must be others. But somehow Laro couldn't do more than make nonsense words as he was pulled into a large lodge style building, and came face to face with even more genomes. They were just so adorable, he couldn't explain why the sight of them made him so happy. They sat on the rafters and in groups on the floor. Boy genomes and girl genomes and more strange little men all gathered around a fire and modest platform where three more of them sat. With Zidane one of the tallest in the room, and him still towering over the man, Laro felt a veritable giant. Looking over at the Mentor, he reminded himself on the relative nature of scale, the alien was peering down around at the crowd with equal fascination. Looking taller than ever by comparison.

"So many like Kuja!" It murmured happily. "We have found his hive-home. It is good."

"Apparently so," he agreed.

They must have interrupted some sort of town meeting, Laro decided as he turned to see the startled looks from the three elders sitting on the platform. Only one of the three who sat apart looked anything like Zidane. She stood immediately on his arrival. "Older Brother? You were just here a few weeks ago what's happened? I thought you were going to the west?"

"Something's come up, Mikoto. Come down here a second, I want to introduce you." Zidane waved her close, and when she complied Laro was struck with how they weren't just similar, they were near identical.

He wondered if his eyes were tired, or this place really was strangely homogenous. Looking back and forth, he was grateful that while waif thin, her gender set her apart. If they had both been boys, it would have been hopeless. He would have had to memorize the color of their shirts or something. Slender, and of a height with Kuja – shorter than Zidane- she smoothed her homespun dress free of creases before offering her hand to him in greeting.

Laro must have murmured something appropriate because she promptly ignored him in favor of meeting the rest of the group. He continued to watch her, bemused at how her movements, her personality was again, completely different. She was like neither of her brothers in manner, although there was something of Kuja's shrewdness and calculation in her eyes. But where Kuja's manner was grace and elegance, Mikoto gave the impression of intense focus, not just meeting you, but studying you as well. He almost laughed at the way she fearlessly poked at the Selwe, trying to identify it probably.

It reminded Laro of the old duke, her sharp way of taking in everything about a person all at once. He sighed, not for the first time wishing for Riquoi's council in this mad place. The old politician always knew how to play a situation to his own benefit. Lately Laro felt more and more like a leaf in the wind. Just as soon as he learned a place's name, he was off again, told to go here, there, somewhere else. So far it seemed he was making progress, but who was to say? All his hopes rested on Zidane, and despite the man's friendly persona, he didn't know him well enough to feel entirely confident.

"Oi, you alright?"

He looked down and recognized Blank tugging his arm. If the young thief had noticed he was looking overwhelmed, Laro realized he must be tired. Usually he was better at keeping his anxieties to himself. "I- I think I'd like to rest a while, if possible."

"Yeah? Yeah you look like you're about to fall over. That's what happens when you stand on deck all day in the cold, you know. The mages here have a little crap hotel that they usually let us crash at for free when we visit. I'll take you there and you can sack out for the night." The spiky haired thief waved to get Zidane's attention as they shuffled through the crowd. "You know where to find him, right?"

"Sure." Kuja's brother offered him a frazzled smile. "Get some rest, Laro, I don't think you need to be around for the first part of this conversation anyway."

"Probably means you don't want to get caught in the crossfire." The thief sniggered as they stumbled out into the less claustrophobic air outdoors. "I don't think Mikoto's going to be too pleased with him to find out that Kuja is still alive."

"Because she wanted him dead, or because she wanted him not-dead?" Laro wondered aloud.

Blank grunted at the question and guided him down two little walkways, advising him to duck as he enter a quaint little building full of bunk beds. "Hard to say with her. But probably she'll be interested that he's alive, she grew up with him I guess, not that I can ever picture her as a kid." The thief made a face. "She kind of creeps me out. Not as much as she used to at the beginning, but still, creepy."

"Why?" Laro was relieved to see some bunks at the back of the room built for taller people and sat down on one to remove his shoes. "Does she remind you of Kuja or something?"

"Huh? Hell no. Kuja at least had a personality. You could insult him and he'd get mad. Or apparently he used to give presents to theater companies in Treno that were really outrageous when he liked a play. Wish we had known that before the war, we could have cleaned up."

"I can't see you as an actor."

"Well it was more of a blind than an actual profession." Blank cheerfully agreed. "Great way of being invited to a swank party as a group, plenty of time to steal things during the acts when we're not on stage."

"That does seem clever." Laro laughed. "But about Mikoto, you find her too reserved?"

"Emotionless, I think it the best word." The thief shrugged. "In the beginning they all were, the genomes, that is. The black mages were too, now that you mention it. But they got over it pretty quick, were sorta cute back when they were first figuring things out."

"It's something to do with Terra, I'm told. Or how Mikoto and the others were made, it sorta suppresses the personality right out of a person. Scary. Most of them are really funny now, like watching little kids, but Mikoto took a lot longer to thaw than the others. Maybe she just decided her 'personality' was going to be frigid, who knows. It's funny watching her yell at Zidane, but yeah. Otherwise count me out."

Laro digested the tidbit as he lay back, letting his escort claim the lamp and retreat back to the town's hall. Tucking himself in his blanket, he rolled up against the wall and tried to block out the sounds of distant chatter. Something tickled his memory about the idea, something Masa had once said about the city he was born in. He had referred to it as a place full of drones, Laro suddenly remembered. How eerie it must have been, to be the only 'personality' in a place where nobody felt anything, no one was individual from anyone else.

"Laro, tell me something." Warm fingers touching his face in the darkness, a lover curled close in the almost-privacy of his tent.

He sighed, tilting his head to get more of the touch, sore and tired from the day of fighting. All he wanted was to sleep, lay in bed forever with his arms around Masa and wake up somewhere to find this whole war had been a strange dream. The cat-man kissed his jawline playfully, not content to be ignored. "What do you want, kitten?"

"Talk to me, we had all of four words of conversation this morning before you had to go deal with the assault, and you're too busy during the day."

"I'm sorry," telling his lover that they were at war and didn't have time for leisurely conversations was a cheap shot. Masa knew that. Knew it as well as anyone in the camp, it didn't change the fact that the silver haired man wanted to spend a little time with him. If he was honest with himself he wanted the same. Exhausted or not, Laro stretched and kissed a bit of his lover in easy reach, a shoulder as it turned out. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Doesn't matter really." Masa laughed against his hair, cuddling him close. "Something idle and unimportant, I guess, distract us both for a little while."

"I don't know if I'm good at idle and unimportant." He smiled, enjoying the quiet, and the company. "Can't talk about the weather, it's been the same for a month straight."

"Hmmm…" His mage shifted until he could rest his chin on his arms, his arms on Laro's chest. "Well, maybe we can take an opportunity to ask eachother stupid questions."

Laro was saved from laughing by a yawn. "Define a stupid question?"

"Like, what's your favorite color?"

"Um. Blue, I guess." He chuckled softly, surprised by the random query. No one had asked him that since he was a child, it seemed. "Yours is purple, I bet."

"Knave." Masa bumped his shoulder with his head. "Fine, you have to think of your own silly question then."

"Oh." Laro found it was actually harder than expected to come up with an idle sort of question. In the end, he settled for, "What's your favorite food?"

"Clams casino." Masa grinned down at him. "Very tasty.

"How do you make them?"

Seeeming surprised that he didn't known, his lover wiggled a finger to demonstrate as he explained. "It's where you open them and serve the clam in half the shell, and then you cover it with butter, garlic, breadcrumbs, maybe some tart cheese, and roast them so that the top is all crispy brown and good, and you can eat just one or two as an appetizer, or get a whole plateful and eat until you're sick of them."

"That does sound good." Laro confessed. That was one problem with fighting an endless land battle. He hadn't had decent seafood since they had left the coast all those months ago. "That and a platter of glazed sea bass, and I'd be a very happy man."

"I'll put it on the menu for the victory celebration." Masa gave up on perching in favor of less innocent pursuits, it wasn't until Laro was obliged to catch his breath that he was cornered again. "If you be anywhere right now, where would you be?"

He grinned, getting the hang of the game. "On the ocean. Sailing. Preferably with you of course."

"I should hope so."

Laro received a kiss on the nose for his answer, and then remembered he had to ask the next one. "What… what do you miss the most, about leaving your home?"

Masa made a face. "That sounds like a serious question, to me."

"I didn't mean it to be." He winced. "I was just curious." Pressing his face up against his lover's hair he was relieved to feel the man was still as relaxed as before. "I'll think of something else."

"No, it's quite alright…" Masa disagreed with a chuckle, "It's harmless enough. Let's see. Something I actually miss. Something I probably could never do here." Settling himself snuggly against his shoulder, the cat-man hmmed to himself. "Dragons, I guess."

"Dragons?" Laro blinked, and turned to see if he was being teased. "Your old world had dragons? Like, giant flying lizards?"

"They were beautiful." His lover agreed. "I used to watch them flying, just for fun. Most of them were very dangerous, but some could be tamed as pets of a sort. If you had the patience for it."

"I've only heard of dragons in mythology. I always thought they were made-up things." He chuckled, feeling incredibly drowsy despite his best efforts.

Masa only sighed, wrapping his arms around his neck as he curled close, also half-asleep. "Nothing in the world can compare to flying dragon-back."

"Land flashing by beneath you as it glides on the wind."

"I had one of bright silver…"

"…with feathers on its wings."

"Mr. Nazer."

Laro came awake confused, at the gentle hand on his arm. He shook his head, feeling for a moment as if he had just gone to sleep. "… do dragons have feathers?"

The young woman sitting on the edge of his bed raised an eyebrow at the unusual question. "Sometimes. But it is quite rare." She shifted back a little bit, allowing him to sit up and get his bearings. "Good morning, Mr. Nazer."

"Please call me Laro," he rubbed his face and looked around, trying to remember where he was. The sight and sound of a room full of bunk beds strewn with thieves gave him a clue. "This… this is the Black Mage Village?"

"Yes." The young woman stood up, smoothing her dress in much the same way she had the night before. Her tail curled sedately behind her as she waited for him. "You came here last night along with Zidane and his friends from Tantalus. He explained many things to me, but I wanted to talk to you personally before I make any decision."

"You're Mikoto." Laro felt stupid at how slow his brain was at producing the name. Seeing her in daylight, she truly did look like a female version of Masa. Remembering him brought back the dream he had woken with, and he fought the urge to blush. "I beg your pardon for not explaining everything personally, but…"

"You've traveled a very long way. And you were tired." She gave him a grave look. "You still are, I think. This place must be very exhausting to you, with its strangeness, and its constant changes."

"I- Yes. It is." Feeling strangely humbled by her comprehension of his situation, he meekly followed her past the sleepers and into the morning. They quietly walked past several of the round little men that the village was named for, and several genomes carrying buckets of water. The later turned to stare at him with innocent interest. Mikoto paid them no mind, guiding him towards a little house built back into the trees.

Holding the door open, she bid him to sit on a bench by the table. He ducked his head to avoid a clump of herbs hanging to dry, and looked around, seeing more bundles hanging everywhere. The house was almost prim in its simplicity, a pair of little beds in one nook, bookcases lined two walls. The little kitchen he was seated in had a long counter and two pump-sinks looking more like a workshop than anything.

"When I first came here, I felt much the same." Laro could only watch as she set a plate in front of him and then supplied him with toast, jam, mug, and a bowl of fruit before settling herself. "Everything was so different from what I knew, and I felt all alone. For a long time I was very unhappy, and everything I did made me tired. All I wanted to do was to go home again. Go back to where everything made sense, and I had some control over my life. But Terra was gone, and so here I stayed."

"What did you do?" He asked gently, sipping on his drink. The tea was definitely some sort of herbal concoction, but it didn't taste bad at all, and went a long way towards waking him up and soothing his nerves.

"Endured. I suppose." She smiled faintly. "After a while, I became accustomed to this place, its people. Things no longer seemed so strange and complex. I undertook to study the plants of the region for medicinal properties, and continued my duties as teacher to the other genomes, although Vivi and Mr. Fifty-one know far more than I do."

"Mr. Fifty-one?" Laro could guess that she must be referring to one of the hat-wearing little men by the name alone. It seemed they all went by numbers.

"One of the elders. In general, anyone with a number below 100 is considered to be wise in this village. They are first generation, and so there aren't many of them left." She explained. "Well, and Vivi, but he's special."

"Vivi is the other elder?" He tried to remember who else was standing on stage the night before. "How come he doesn't have a number?"

"I think it was because he was raised by an outsider. I suppose his true name would be Mr. One. It's hard to say. Everyone calls him Vivi."

"And all the others were born and raised here? And decided to go by numbers."

"The initial black mages were created, Mr. Laro, not born. Just like me." She poured them both more tea. "Just like Zidane, and Kuja, and the rest of the genomes. We were all manufactured, in the beginning."

"How is it you all came to be here?" He looked around in amazement. "I've seen children, haven't I? Both among the black mages and your people too."

"Yes." This time Mikoto smiled with genuine pleasure. "I always knew it was possible for us, but one of my first tasks to repay the black mages for their hospitality was to enable them in some capacity as well. Kuja did well enough in their basic implantation, but he left them sadly unfinished in several ways. It was affecting their ability to create a society."

"Wait, the black mages were made by Kuja?" The conversation was getting more surreal by the moment. Laro stared at his tea, wondering if maybe it was more than just inert flavors.

"Kuja was very clever." She murmured. "Is there something wrong with your tea?"

He set it down and shook his head. "No, it's just, what you're saying seems impossible to me. How can someone possibly create a living thing? I mean, other than the usual way." He smiled sheepishly.

"Terran civilization had progressed through an understanding of how to manipulate and shape life." Mikoto folded her hands in front of her. "It was this knowledge that allowed Garland to construct us, and it was this knowledge, perhaps incompletely understood, that allowed Kuja to create them" She pointed out the window as a little man in a straw hat trotted by.

"I too know of the process, enough at least to correct or finish those things that Kuja started."

Laro could only laugh at the calm way she talked about it, struck by the bizarreness of it all. "I don't mean to be lewd lady, but pray tell me. If the black mages are all of one gender, how can they possibly reproduce?"

"It did pose something of a challenge." She almost-smiled at his bafflement. "I found I needed to introduce an external input into the equation. So I engineered a special tree that could produce pods. Two or more mages can mix a small amount of their energies and feed them to the tree, and given a year or so their input will be magnified and molded, a fruit will grow and hatch from the tree, and produce them an offspring."

Clearing the table, as if her creation was nothing extraordinary, she piled the empty dishes in a small sink. "If you are interested we can go and see it. It's rare that anyone shows interest in my work other than Zidane. At the moment there is an issue with capacity, so I have been undertaking to grow a second tree, but it won't be ready for many years yet."

"That's incredible." Laro freely admitted. "I would like to see it. It would be quite a story to share with the people from my homeland. We have no ability to create as you do."

"Maybe Kuja will show you how someday." She wiped her hands on a towel and looked at him considering, "Zidane says that Kuja is alive, that he's been living among your people since he left here."

Laro sighed, realizing that their entertaining discussion was over. "Yes. We found him and nursed him to health, but then he fell sick again, beyond our ability to cure by ourselves."

"A blood disease." Mikoto's face was impassive. "His body fails to produce new elements to replace those that would naturally fade and die."

"How did you-" Laro blinked, realizing he hadn't mentioned the particulars to Zidane. He didn't even fully understand them himself, outside what the doctors had coached him through. She waved off his worried exclamation.

"I was Garland's principle servant. There was little he wrought that I am unaware of." She looked out the window a moment. "I knew of the limiter before anyone else did, probably. But I had thought he had died, and so that it didn't matter."

Laro noticed her hands were clenched tightly in her skirt. "Is there a way to heal him? The doctors of my world are confident that if they could just find a healthy source, they could somehow revitalize him."

"If you have sufficient technology? If he isn't too damaged to save?" Mikoto gave him a strange look. "He might yet live."

"Will you help?" He couldn't keep his urgency out of his voice, "Please, I've come so far."

"He-" She turned away, upset, "He sounds as if he is much changed, since I saw him last."

"I know he's done evil in this world." Laro whispered. "But you must believe me, he is precious to us. We would give anything to repay our debt to him."

"I doubt if he would approve, your seeking help from me." She laughed softly and turned back, staring at him sadly.

"After all, I'm partly to blame for his current condition."

Laro found himself left much to his own devices after the disquieting breakfast. He found his way to the grassy meadow just behind the village with the help of several of the black mages giving directions. On the one side, was a tiny sort of cemetery, the other side was dwarfed by an enormous looking sort of tree decorated with buntings and potted flowers. How strange, he wondered, to have both the start and end of life so conveniently located side by side. Even as he relaxed in the sunshine and watched, pairs of prospective parents wandered out to the tree to carefully look over some of the odd shaped fruits hanging from the low branches. One trio carefully wheeled a straw lined basket out and with much discussion and repositioning, got it into position under a particularly ripe looking golden pod.

He wondered if he ought to offer them congratulations on their eminent arrival. Laro was so taken by their antics that he almost didn't notice the sound of someone settling next to him. Turning, he tried not to be surprised by yet another of the little mages close up. For a moment he wondered if it was a child.

"You are Mr. Laro, yes? Mr. Kuja's friend from a far off shore."

"Yes." Laro blinked. The mage didn't speak like a child. "And you are?"

"Oh, forgive me! I forget that we must all look alike to outsiders." The short man laughed. "I am Vivi. I am a friend to Miss Mikoto."

"You're one of the village elders." Saying it, Laro realized that the mage did look a little familiar, not that he wanted to be tested on his ability to pick him out of a crowd of his people. "I am honored."

"As am I. It was quite shocking, to hear Kuja was still alive, after all this time."

"I'm sorry if the news upsets you." Laro had no idea how to read the little mage's expression. "I didn't expect the news to cause such a shock to everyone."

"Mikoto is very distressed." Vivi sighed. "I think she had come to terms with the fact that she had lost him. And now to find that she hasn't, has really upset her equilibrium."

"Is she angry that he's still alive?" He asked. "Queen Garnet was definitely unhappy."

"No. I think what Mikoto feels is a little more complicated." The little mage shrugged. "I myself am surprised at my feelings. I thought I would be angry that he lived, but after hearing how he has lived, I think Zidane made the right decision."

"Was he so bad?" Laro winced. "Will she help, do you think?"

The little mage adjusted his hat and looked up at the sky with a sigh. "I think perhaps she must. She needs to, to lay old ghosts to rest once and for all. It is understandable that people are troubled though. Kuja… he is difficult for us, black mages, to come to terms with."

"Yes he created us, but not as 'people' we were only tools to him. It wasn't until we rebelled against him that we understood the gift of life we were given went beyond anything he could have planed for us." Vivi looked unhappy. "Many of us died, doing his bidding. Many of us died after we rebelled, because he never bothered to correct some problems with our design. It is only thanks to Mikoto that there are any of us left at all."

"He seems to have had a knack of doing great things by accident, and terrible things by design." Laro shook his head. "But what part of that was Garland's fault, and what was his own?"

"I firmly believe that how a person is raised, contributes importantly to how they treat others." Vivi raised his hands to study them. "I was shown great love by someone when I was young. And so I grew up caring for others. Zidane too, understands that he is a product of his environment. If it is true, that Kuja was able to demonstrate something other than what he was here, to you. If he was free of garland, and chose friendship and sacrifice over personal gain, then that would truly be remarkable."

"That's what I think." The little mage murmured. "If it is as you say. Then I think he deserves a chance."

"Thank you." Laro rested his hands on his knees, strangely absolved by Vivi's words. "I think it's pretty remarkable too."

In this chapter, on this day, nothing happened.

I thank you.

Lunar


	29. Maybe You'll be Waiting There

Feather Flight: Maybe You'll Be Waiting There (part 29)

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

Drifting in a surreal sort of half dream, Kuja was aware in a vague way of the doctors coming and going from his room, days passing. The Selwe interpreter was a constant presence at the edge of his consciousness, but more often than not he didn't have the energy to try and communicate with it. It was easier to just float along as his body clung stubbornly to life. If Laro had been there, maybe he would have made an effort. Sometimes confused by a memory flitting to the surface he thought Laro was there, that he had returned from his fool's quest. When he reached out however, he was always proved wrong. Kuja was glad that disappointment, like all other emotions, never lasted wrong. Exhaustion swept them all away.

Even if Laro somehow succeeded in going to Gaia, what would he find there? Some rubble, some baffled peasants; that was all. Terra was where all the answers were, and Terra was gone.

Laro wasn't coming back.

Tired as he was, Kuja could admit the truth to himself with only a twinge of agony. Most likely the alien's device had failed at the onset and his lover was long gone. In all likelihood the soldier was waiting for him, wherever spirits were inclined to wait, hoping he'd hurry up and join him. Somehow he couldn't bring himself to let go. Kuja chose wait for his love. Like some diligent damsel in the story books, he would hold on until the choice was no longer his to make.

Thinking of his old home, he lost himself in another memory, anything to pass the time as he waited for the impossible.

"Kuja, what are you doing?"

He didn't turn around at the familiar monotone question. Mikoto, he silently decided, had a positive gift for turning up where he didn't want her. He wondered if it was some new feature of Garland's incorporated into her design. Typing in the final coefficients to the mathematical model, he set the processor to the task of computing the potential risk vectors with a faint smile.

Kuja had studied Mikoto's models long before her primary biological fabrication had even begun. Doubly cautious with this, Garland's second attempt to replace him, he had been naturally curious as to what her capabilities would be. Careful examination however had revealed nothing that caused him worry. Weak, barely magical at all, she was more of a nuisance than anything. Mikoto was little more than a spare pair of hands obediently applied to her 'master's work. She shared some degree of his intelligence, a minor portion of his looks, and absolutely no spirit at all.

Even as a baby, Zidane had showed more potential than Mikoto. At least he had cried when cast into the lake's portal, refusing the indignity of his exile, if only at a primitive level.

Mikoto never cried, not even at times when he knew she had to feel pain. When she had been younger, he had made it something of a hobby to torment her when possible. Petty vengeance, he admitted, for her efforts in Garland's service to test/torture him for the sake of research.

Idly turning to watch the woman, he wondered if she was even capable of simple emotional responses. Drone, he scathingly named her vague expression. She only blinked at him from her place by the door, frowning slightly as she observed his trespass. Other than mild annoyance or faint alarm her eyes never showed much. He'd never seen any hope for her. Just like the others, she was little more than a sentient doll. Aware of her surroundings, but no more than that, she was more of an annoyance than a 'sister' despite Garland's pompous declarations.

Unaware, or uncaring of his opinion of her, Mikoto walked over to examine what he was doing. Kuja propped his hip on the edge of the test fixture to see what she'd do. It wasn't like she could stop him, other than running to fetch Garland, and he knew for a fact the old codger was locked in his tower 'observing' again. He had delivered his progress report on Gaia, but the man was too much of a control freak to take him at his word. Kuja didn't mind, he hadn't been dismissed back to Gaia yet, so he saw the delay as his chance to check on one or two things in the central database while his 'master' was busy with other things.

"You're investigating your genetic template." Mikoto murmured, and then frowned again. "Why?"

"No reason." He drawled back.

Had he ever been like this? So empty? He had certainly once been more passive, Kuja presumed. He had memories of several years before the cataclysm of Mandarin Sari, all of them fairly uneventful by his current standards. He had even been to Gaia before that day, on short missions, taking measurements, but it hadn't been the same. It was strange how that one afternoon burned in his memory, standing out from all the days that had come before.

Kuja had been content at the chance to ride along in the Invincible, watching as Garland calmly obliterated building after building. Kuja shielded his eyes from the maddened frenzy of the summon spirits. Affected by the ship's radiation they had twisted and turned mad in the air falling on each other, crashing to earth to lie as if dead. Kuja looked over the destruction impassively enough. He didn't remember feeling anything unsettling until later. Not until he had set foot in the rubble.

It was only in the aftermath, prowling the city with orders to deal with the survivors, that he felt the first twinge of something. An unnamed itch under his skin, the sour flavor in his mouth that he had blamed on the acrid smoke, he had ignored the sensation as he checked the corpses, but it didn't go away.

Kuja shielded his face from a particularly foul smelling gust billowing between the broken houses. He didn't like being dirty, and the cobblestone was still scorching hot beneath his feet from Garland's assault. Stepping around a shattered section of wall he found his first target. A summoner moaned quietly to herself, still alive.

The sight made him pause, and he realized he was experiencing a feeling. The woman was bleeding profusely as she lay propped against a ruined house. Before he could move to terminate her, she caught sight of him and gurgled in surprise. She must have mistaken him for a friend because she held out a filthy hand to silently to beseech his aid. Disgusted by the broken fingers Kuja stepped back and hissed at her. He was too startled to recall what spell he had meant to use. Distracted by her choking words, wishing he hadn't studied her language quite so well, he understood the, "Please, I'm dying…" with perfect clarity. Kuja's stomach twisted in unsettling ways.

He refused to let it show. "Yes. You are."

"Help me?"

"No." Kuja clenched his hands into fists, wondering why his body was acting so irregularly. Why it would not submit to his will as it usually did. The woman dropped her hand, her look changing from wide-eyed to tight and pinched. She must be feeling something too, he realized, he wondered what.

"Help me, please!" She begged.

Tears, he realized. She was crying. He had seen the phenomena before, but never up close. He wondered if it felt as unpleasant as it looked. "No. You are already on the verge of expiring. I do not need to exert energy to assist you."

"But I don't want to die." The summoner could hiss to, and did so as she scrabbled amidst the rubble with her good hand and found a sharp stone.

"Death is doubtless better than your current state of being." He pointed out calmly.

She flung it weakly at him, fending him off. "I don't want to die! I won't!"

Even as he ducked he watched amazed as she staggered upright, ignoring grave wounds, her horn sparkling with gathering spirit energy. "Monster. You did this! You killed my family, but not me! I won't let you! I'm going to live! I'm going to stop- "

Attuned to the flow of life force as he was, Kuja let go of the barrier he was calling forth before finishing it. Even as she was willing her guardian beast from the earth, her body gave out, releasing her and her aborted summon with a startled gasp. It took Kuja a moment longer to realize his hands were still reflexively raised to block the attempted attack. Staring down at the still-open eyes he shuddered silently, caught in a nameless paralysis.

"Kuja, why have to paused in your investigation? Your selected target is exterminated, continue your sweep."

The transponder clipped to his ear jarred him back to a semblance of normality, reminding him that Garland was always watching, always listening. For the first time, this too stirred something within his chest, if he could only think for a moment he might remember the word for it. Kuja shook his head free of the odd thoughts.

"Y-y-yes." He staggered forward, stepping over the corpse and forcing himself to check the inside of the house.

It was empty.

For some reason the boring sight made the pressure on his lungs ease slightly as he pushed away to continue slowly down the street.

"Is something wrong?" The old man's voice caught him by surprise again. He fought not to flinch.

"N-No." He stepped over a broken bucket of produce and forced himself to check if the owner of the outstretched hand nearby was breathing or not.

He didn't want to.

The realization came as a shock.

He didn't want another encounter like he had just had. Dead, he ascertained quickly. Kuja stood and mechanically proceeded to the next house.

"You sound strange." The voice in his ear critiqued. "Report status."

He knows! Kuja realized. And strangely, his formerly uncooperative memory shifted into high-gear. There was a name for the chill running down his spine and out to the very tip of his tail. There was a name for the feeling coursing through his veins, causing him to clamp down on his breathing, and focus his whole being into the lie he was saying.

"The smoke is interfering with my ability to function at normal levels."

"Proceed with caution." Came the bored reply.

"Yes, Garland."

Fear.

He shivered again. Afraid of the corpses, afraid of the idea that another of the summoners might yet live, might stare at him with demanding eyes, curse him, try to fight him. They were afraid too, terrified. The realization was like a slap to the face. He stood on the threshold of another burning building and used it as an excuse to pause a minute.

She had been afraid. She had been afraid of ending.

Gasping a lungful of the thick air around him, Kuja turned around to find the charred bones of even more victims of the Invincible, and realized he had matched the name to the initial feeling still twisting inside of him.

Horror.

Kuja knew beyond all logic, that he felt horror at what Garland had done. At what he was doing. So many deaths, so many people who probably hadn't wanted to die. People who were afraid, like him. He was horrified by it.

And he was afraid of what Garland would do, if he ever found out.

Blinking, Kuja forced the new emotions down, making sure they could not be seen. No one must know, he decided, no one must discover this weakness.

Grimly checking the remaining houses on the street in the most superficial manner possible, he worked his way back to the ship and climbed on board, lying a second time and recognizing that it was 'relief' he felt when Garland believed him without question.

Retiring to the upper level of the ship while it cruised back to the portal, Kuja hugged himself and wondered whether this new feeling slowly building as the others faded might be called 'paranoia'.

He would have to do some research when they returned to Brambala.

Watching Mikoto as she puzzled through his flat refusal to cooperatively share information, he contemplated the duality of his life since Mandarin Sari. Other emotions had grown within him as the quiet months and years after that day. They had become familiar, so familiar he wondered how he could have lived without them. On the surface however, he still pretended to play the part of 'drone' for the others, but he wondered why he bothered. Garland had to know by now, the old man wasn't completely oblivious, but with Zidane gone, there was very little he could do about this additional 'aberration' in his prototype.

Kuja made very certain that he followed the orders he was given with precision. Garland was too stupid to adjust his manner of issuing demands, and there were always loopholes if the task assigned ran too counter to Kuja's own personal aims. Self preservation was one of the first concepts he had refreshed his memory on, upon disembarking from the Invincible after that day. It was a lesson he had taken to heart.

He wouldn't end up like those poor weak fools in Mandarin Sari.

When the next cataclysm struck he would be counted among the survivors, whether Garland desired it or not. He was alive, as Kuja, and he wanted to stay that way. If Mikoto got in his way, it was just too bad for her.

"You are not allowed to access the mainframe without Master Garland's authorization." She reached out to terminate the program. Kuja slapped her hand away, no longer amused.

"Piss off, Mikoto, you're not wanted here. Go stare at the blue light along with the others or something."

"Master Garland said-"

"I don't give a damn what Garland said." He smirked, watching her little frown deepen into an almost emotion. Almost, but not quite.

"He will be informed of your disobedience." Mikoto tried to reach for the computer again. This time Kuja caught her wrist, holding her at bay. Unthwarted, she stubbornly tried to swipe at the keyboard with her other hand, which he also summarily caught.

"Naughty naughty, Mikoto. Go off and tell the bastard, I don't give a damn, but not until after I get the results, understand?" It was hopeless to try and make her be reasonable, if she had been a reasoning creature in the slightest, she wouldn't have been on Garland's side in the first place. She struggled against his grip single mindedly however, ignoring his advice completely. It was almost funny, right up until she realized her feet were still free and proceeded to kick him sharply in the shin.

Letting go with a yelp, Kuja recovered just in time to catch the woman by the hair as she tried to dart past him to the terminal. He didn't bother to hold back, tossing her through the air to collapse against the far wall with a loud thud. Too well built to be more than stunned by the blow, she sat dazed a moment before pulling herself up.

"Garland will be informed." She shook her head a bit as she tried to get her rattled wits together. He crossed the floor before she could make a second attempt on his program.

"Ah Mikoto, I'm afraid you just don't amuse me like you used to. Normally I'd find your tenacity endearing, but right now I'm a little pressed for time."

"Garland left orders." Mikoto gasped as he closed his hand around her throat and started applying pressure.

"I'm sure he did."

"You- " Looking more alive than usual, she struggled to pull his hand loose, slowly strangling under the force of his fingers.

"Do you ever wonder what it is I've been doing on Gaia, Mikoto?" Kuja smiled bitterly. "Wait, don't bother to answer, let me guess. I'm speeding the process of entropy, right? That's what Garland's told you."

His 'sister' stared at him with frantic eyes as she choked, a simple biological response, he'd gotten the same look from rabbits he'd killed for his dinner. Even now he couldn't be sure if there was a hint of fear in the look or not. It annoyed him.

"I kill people, Mikoto. Sometimes I blow away ships full of them with a spell. Sometimes I convince them to kill each other for me for the fun of it. Sometimes I take them one at a time, just like this. I just squeeze and squeeze and squeeze until they're dead. I've had lots of practice. I think I might even have a talent for it. Do you understand?"

If she did, she made no sign.

"I've killed quite a few people so far, dear sister." He shrugged whimsically as her eyes glazed over. "Doubtless I'll have to step up my efforts if Garland's time table is to be maintained. Pity that he probably won't count you towards my quarterly goal."

Oxygen deprivation finally getting the better of her, Mikoto passed out. He let her go with a disgusted sigh, watching her color slowly improve as she slumped to the floor. It would have been easy enough to finish the job, but killing her would only lead to an unpleasant scene with Garland. He tried to avoid those if he could help it. The man had no sense of humor. Kuja returned to the console and started reading the log file, wondering if that was the real reason he stopped. Killing had lost a great deal of its emotional impact with his constant practice, so it wasn't squeamishness that stopped him. Nor was Garland's wrath really a good reason either. It wasn't like the old man could do more than modestly punish him.

Garland's schedule couldn't afford the setback of growing and training a replacement.

Laughing at the irony of it all, Kuja instructed the mainframe to forward the output to the Invincible's memory bank for further study. Something he seen on Gaia had led him to believe that he wasn't aging as they did. Perhaps he wasn't aging at all. He had speculated that it was because of the nature of Brambala and his frequent trips back and forth, but further study of Garland's genome fabrication process was necessary to completely understand the factors. Certainly the old scientist had intended for his creations to be comely looking, they were the future vessels of Terra after all, but Kuja personally wouldn't have minded a few more inches in height.

If the change was easy to make, he might just get them on his next visit, provided that Mikoto stayed out of his way.

He glanced over at her and noted her tail had begun to twitch again. Built to last, he had to give Garland credit for that. The woman was already shaking off her near strangulation. She'd be back on her feet and pestering him in no time. Her neck was a lovely bruised shade of purple. With another half an hour of computing before he was done, he considered his options. Not for the first time, did he look out the doorway at the placid blue of the lake, wondering if he could just drop her in as he had once done for their 'brother'. God only knew where she'd end up though.

He shook his head, vetoing the idea. Even if he did do it, she was too stubborn to stay lost if Garland should happen to look for her. He'd never hear the end of it.

Laro settled himself at the trestle table, feeling just as oversized on his second breakfast in Mikoto's house as he had on the first. She and Mr. Vivi were talking quietly at the sink as she filled the teapot, but soon the little mage darted out nodding a greeting as he passed. He watched the straw hat's departure with more than a little interest, wondering if some decision had been reached.

"How did you sleep, Laro?" The woman asked cordially.

"Well enough." He shrugged. "Is it just me, are there a lot of owls in this forest?"

He wasn't sure what was so funny about what he had just said, but it elicited a genuine smile from the blond cat-woman. Genome – he corrected himself. The name wasn't half as romantic, in his opinion, but it was probably far more accurate. They really were more 'monkey' than anything. In his wandering around the village the day before he had been able to watch them get up to all sorts of cute tricks with their tails. When Masa was well again, he would tease the man about not using his more often. A tail seemed a handy thing to have after all.

She recovered her serious expression quickly enough. "This forest is known for its owls, but they were a little loud last night perhaps. I think it's due to the full moon. I assigned some of the others to observing the birds, but haven't had a chance to review their findings yet."

"That's alright, I'm sure you're right." Laro wondered if it would be rude to confess he didn't care for more information about the nocturnal annoyances so long as they went away. Their mournful hooting had given him assortment of strange dreams, and he had spent most of the night wishing they'd find somewhere else to socialize the night through. Accepting his tea with a smile, he concentrated on that instead, dismissing the lingering image from his last dream before waking. He had stood in a vast night time desert, distant start twinkling above. But as he had appreciated the view, he saw Masa above him as well supported in the air by huge crimson and white wings. Laro had shouted to try and get the distant flyer's attention, but his lover hadn't seemed able to find him, just continued to float on the night wind above his head, crying his name as if lost.

"You're troubled by something." Mikoto continued setting out plates with what he assumed was her usual melancholy look. He was surprised to note she was setting a third place at the table. When she settled across from him at last, she raised an eyebrow in a shadow of Masa's more elegant look of inquiry. "Is something wrong?"

"Just thinking about M- Kuja." Laro caught himself before he confused the woman. "Wondering if he's holding up."

She looked away as she stirred her tea. "I have been thinking about him too. I spoke with the Black Mage council yesterday, to see if they had an opinion on this matter."

"Did you?" He feigned less interest than he felt. "And what did they say."

"They said," Mikoto hesitated. "They said I should do as I feel is right. They will not judge him, they do not feel that a creation should ever rule arbitrarily on the validity of his/her maker's ideals."

"That's very philosophical of them." Laro mused. "Seeing as how he created them as tools to further his war."

"Yes. I was surprised." She confessed. "I felt certain they would still feel fear, or anger."

"They seem a pretty laid back set, from what I've seen."

"They are very gentle." Mikoto agreed.

The door opened with only a brisk tap in warning. Zidane strolled energetically into the little house, livening up the morning simply by thrusting himself into it. "Who's gentle?" He declared as he claimed the empty spot at the table.

"Vivi and the others." His sister caught him up.

"Nobody sweeter." Zidane agreed cheerfully. "Just ran into him and Junior on my way here. He says you've made up your mind?" Her brother devoured both slices of toast and started in on the fruit bowl.

"I- yes. I think so." The blonde woman twisted her hands where they rested on the table. "I think I need to go to him, Zidane. I- I need to try. I don't know that he'll want me to, but it isn't right, what was done to him. I need to make things right."

"You think you can fix him?"

Laro silently offered a thank you to the universe at large. Two weeks of wandering had been worth it.

Zidane looked relieved too, reaching out and patting her hand. "You know I'll help too, but I don't know anything about this stuff. What do you need?"

"Time to gather supplies." Mikoto gained confidence when thinking through the details of her task. "Not more than half a day, I imagine, I don't have much here, hopefully Laro's doctors will be able to provide me with the rest?"

"If not, we'll fabricate whatever you need." He answered grimly. "If it's in our power, or the Selwe's power, we'll get it for you. Kuja's that important to us."

"Alright." Mikoto smiled weakly and turned back to Zidane. "In that case all we need is to some how transport five people to where Kuja is.

"Five people?" The man frowned. "There's four of us, counting that giant bug outside."

"Vivi wants to come too." Mikoto shrugged at her brother's sharp look. "I do not know his reasons. I think perhaps he wants to speak with Kuja about something."

"Five it is." Zidane murmured. "Alright. You get you act together. Laro, you need anything before you leave here?"

"No."

"In that case I'll beg your indulgence for the morning and go have a heart-to-heart with the Crystal, see if it'll tell me where I'm going."

Mikoto frowned. "What if it doesn't know?"

"Don't jinx me please, Mikoto." Her brother made a face as he stood up. "Worst case, I have a rough idea of which way he went and how far, I'll just have to go look for him and come back to get the rest of you when I've found him. It'll just take a hell of a lot more work."

"Good luck." She murmured as the young man left.

"Is there anything I can help with?" Laro offered his services to the healer and promptly found himself put to the dishes while she went to locate luggage and various items to cram into it.

Between Mikoto's flurry of packing and nearly every resident of the small village stopping by to offer assistance or reassure themselves that she would come back, the cottage was a distracting place to be. No wonder then that morning slipped through afternoon without him noticing the time had passed. The mages seemed genuinely heart broken to learn that their Mikoto was going away on a trip. Even her firm assurances that she would be back as soon as Kuja was well didn't seem to cheer them very much. The genomes were even more worried, making Laro realize for the first time exactly how integral the demure woman must be to their tiny community. As young as she seemed, she was one of the pillars of their world, teacher, advisor, doctor, and historian all rolled into one.

In the end, the thieves had to be recruited to assist with 'minding the village' while she was away. They laughingly agreed to an extended vacation, 'so long as Cid didn't need them' and promptly took up their duties by distracting most of the population of the village with an impromptu theatrical production. Laro had to laugh at the sight of the various thugs playing a romantic comedy, but it served its purpose. The genomes were entranced by the story, not even noticing when Zidane popped into existence in front of Mikoto's house out of thin air. Having been lucky enough to be looking that general direction when Zidane appeared Laro could only gape at the casual teleportation.

"Well I know where we're going." The young man joined him in amused observation of the play. His step was still energetic, but his face showed signs of strain. "I have no idea if I can drag four people and Mikoto's mountain of luggage that far all in one trip, but I guess we're about to find out."

"Would two trips make it better or worse?" Laro wondered aloud.

"Depends how long I rest in between, which makes the whole situation rather moot." Zidane shrugged. "Vivi won't leave Mikoto, and I can't imagine your bug will travel well by himself. If I take Vivi and Mikoto first, then I have to leave them behind in a strange place and come back for you. If I take you and the bug back first, well that just means you wait there and hope I come back with a cure some day. Neither idea is that appealing, you know?"

Laro considered the options as well, not liking any of the variations. Even if he could convince the Selwe to stay behind, and if Mikoto could convince her friend, he didn't trust the Mentor to stay out of trouble if left on its own. "All or nothing, I guess."

"Just the way I like it." Zidane grinned. "Come on, let's see if we can get Mikoto before she starts packing another bag and get this show on the road."

_Kuja__, can you hear me?_

Something about the call, seeming to come from a great distance, pulled him out of his reverie. Kuja found the will to open his eyes, wondering why the voice had sounded so familiar. The room was empty of anyone except the giant Selwe seated by the window. The bug actually managed to look bored, despite its rather unexpressive face.

The call hadn't come from that direction.

Kuja blinked slowly, brain working sluggishly at the problem. Luckily for him, his solicitor was impatient. _Kuja__ wake up!_

The voice was definitely familiar. Not voice, he suddenly realized, thoughts. He was hearing someone's thoughts.

If he hadn't known better, he'd have sworn it was his happy-go-lucky menace of a brother. But that wasn't possible; the idiot was probably on the other side of the universe from here. Entertained by the hallucination, he closed his eyes again and started to drift.

_Kuja__ you bastard, I know you can hear me_.

_Fuck off, Zidane, let me die in peace._ He scolded the hallucinatory voice irritably.

_I'm coming through_. Zidane blithely ignored his comment in favor of dropping a modest bombshell on him.

_I need to use you as a more accurate targeting-point since the __Crystal__'s a little vague on details on a less-than-planetary scale. I've got some freeloader's in tow and don't want to land them in outer orbit by accident._

_Wait… _Kuja slowly came to the conclusion that he wasn't imagining the encounter. _Zidane__ Is that really you?_

_The one and only._ It certainly sounded like Zidane. He felt a burst of tired amusement at the blond's sassy tone. _I'll be there shortly._

_Alright._Kuja could hardly do anything to stop the man.

_… I'm glad you're still alive. _Zidane's thought reached him after a momentary hesitation. _Laro__ wasn't sure how far along you were, so we were a little worried._

He wasn't so far gone that that name could slip into a conversation unnoticed, but even as he wanted to ask what Zidane was talking about, what he knew about Laro, he felt sleep overtake him again. Fighting it was futile, fighting often was.

Drifting, Kuja dreamed again smiling slightly as he wandered through grassy plains where the deserts had once stretched. Just over the next hill, he was certain; a sweetly familiar soldier was looking for him. He hurried, not wanting to keep the man waiting.

Lunar

I'd like to say 'worth the wait' but well… man that was a long wait. :-P

What can I say, thanks to everyone who took the trouble to write me

Post reviews, or say hi in the guest book. You are all responsible in part for

getting me working on this again. I've got three more shortish chapters planned

and that's it for this fic, crosses fingers


	30. Smiling the Way You Used To

**Feather Flight: Smiling the Way You Used To (part 30)**

**88888888 **

If Laro's first trip through space-time had been a velvety blackness, his second was blinding white. He didn't apologize for squeezing the blood out of Mikoto's hand as he clung to her. She was holding on just as tightly, lips pressed tightly against her fears as she clung in turn to her brother. On Zidane's other side was the little mage, who looked positively miniscule when compared to the Selwe Mentor standing in the remaining fifth of the circle. Laro had had his doubts at first, the idea of joining hands and wishing he were somewhere else seemed a mite childish really. No sooner than Zidane had smiled and declared it time to go, however, than the world outside their joined hands promptly vanished.

Looking over the peak of Vivi's straw hat, Laro could make out individual streaks in the brightness, the white smears of stars they were sliding past at impossible speed. There was no feeling of motion as they progressed, no real hint of movement at all, except for the rapid flicker of the light around them. What there was however was sound; a strange shrieking whistling noise, not unlike wind being forced through a narrow fissure. Familiar with the desert canyons and rocky costal cliffs of his home world, it was the closest sound he could relate to.

Mikoto kept her eyes firmly closed against the disorienting experience, the bug droned unhappily about something too softly to be heard above the volume of the torrent they were traversing. Zidane's eyes were closed as well, but his expression was one of intense concentration, Laro conceded that a bit of focus when hurtling across the universe at ridiculous speed was probably a good thing. God only knew what would happen if they ran into something by accident. But the man seemed to know what he was doing, and Laro for one, didn't dare to interrupt him. Only he and Vivi dared to look around at their surroundings, the little man craning his head back as he studied the play of light.

"What do you suppose that sound is?" Laro found he had to shout to be heard, even across their little circle.

"The stars!" Vivi replied cheerfully. "If we were going slower they would be easy to tell apart. It's neat isn't it, hearing their voices?"

"You've done this before?" He stared at the little man in the trench coat.

"Oh yes! Zidane likes having friends along when he goes on adventures, I think he gets lonely." Vivi helpfully supplied. "But I've never been this far from home. How exciting! Zidane can hear the stars, even like this, you know. It's how he navigates!"

"Oh." The explanation was lost on him. Laro just shrugged. Moving his shoulder only made Mikoto clench harder on his hand. For such a little woman, she had an insanely strong grip. Between her on the left, and the bug on the right, he wondered if he'd have any feeling left in his hands by the time they had arrived. He leaned over to see if he could get her attention. "Mikoto, you all right?"

"I don't like this!" She kept her eyes tight shut.

"Don't worry, Mikoto, Zidane hasn't ever had a bad landing yet!" The little mage tried to cheer her up.

Her reply was mostly lost in another fluctuation of the ever present noise, but Laro was strangely sure she had said "In that case he's long overdue."

Whatever he would have said to her was promptly forgotten as Zidane suddenly opened his eyes with a gasp. The sudden feeling of momentum, after traveling so smoothly for an hour was a definite shock to the senses. Everyone clung tightly, not wanting to know what would happen if they lost their grip, as the genome, for lack of a better term, applied the breaks. The outer edge of their bubble wasn't white anymore but a kaleidoscope of blacks and bright colors. A particularly large star dominated their view, growing brighter by the second.

"We seem to be in system." Vivi murmured happily. "What a remarkable place. Which planet is yours, Laro?"

"I have no idea." He swallowed to moisten his throat, never having had this sort of perspective on his home before.

"That one." The Mentor offered as a small speck caught the light ahead of them, strangely pale blue against the black. "We are almost there."

_Of course he'd know what we look like from space. They traveled through it to find us too._ Laro sighed.

Shaking her fist a little bit, he tried to encourage Mikoto. "Do you want to see it?"

"No." She barely opened her mouth to speak, eyes still tight shut. "I'll wait until we're stopped."

"If you'd all please shut up, I'll do my best not to bury us in a crater the likes of which God has never seen before." Zidane curtly cut across Vivi's rejoinder.

The marble became a blue-brown planet as he stared in amazement, but before he could really appreciate it they were plunging straight down though the atmosphere. The experience was hair-raising, and Laro quickly decided maybe Mikoto had the right idea. He didn't want to know how hard they'd hit the ground. Zidane was still slowing down, there was no mistaking the tugging sensation, but they were still moving far to fast for comfort.

_We're going to get home alright - like a fly hitting the windshield of a jeep. People will be scraping us off the desert floor and speculating about meteorites for generations to come._ Feeling a little giddy he couldn't do anything but put his trust in Zidane. It wasn't a particularly comforting moment when the young man began to methodically swear in several languages.

The lurching sensation got worse, sometimes pulling them left, or right, or down as Zidane fought for his landing. Another knee-knocking jerk even got a squeak out of Mikoto, but then came a blissful moment of stillness, followed by a hot desert breeze. Laro opened his eyes in amazement.

Foothills rose into ragged mountains off to his left, and crumbled down into a wide vista of baked brown on his right. The wastelands spreading west into the horizon were not uniquely familiar, but the terrain, and the smells, and the colors were all very comforting. He grinned hugely in spite of himself. "We made it!"

The Mentor was the first to react to his assessment, letting go of his numb wrist to turn its gaze skywards. Laro wondered if it could hear any communications traffic broadcasting from the remaining Towers. If anyone would be able to send a quick message to the city, it would be the bug.

After seeing the tight integration between continents on Gaia, Laro had begun to speculate a way of reestablishing the Towers in some sort of non-military capacity. The convenience of a global communication network was truly an amazing thing. Realizing how many of the giant obelisks were probably obliterated in the Queen's final bombardment, he gave it up as a lost cause. They would have to think of something else when the time came.

"Anything?" He asked the alien, even as he gently attempted to pry Mikoto's fingers off his other abused hand. She cracked one eye open to squint at him dubiously before acknowledging that they had indeed landed safely.

"Contact with hive sufficient to alert of arrival, insufficient to broadcast message." The Selwe seemed to have anticipated him. Laro shrugged prosaically at the news.

"Well at least we're on the right planet. Any idea where we are precisely?"

"A couple hundred leagues from the large city in the eastern mountains." Zidane answered for him. The genome sank backwards until he could sit on the smooth polished surface of their landing site. "Didn't dare get closer on a first attempt. Wasn't sure how big a bang we'd make."

"You did great." Laro grinned. "I didn't feel much of anything."

"I sure as hell hope not." The blond offered him a tired smile. "You all were padded from the shock. It was the scenery I was worried about." Pointing over at a pile of boulders and rocks on their left, Zidane offered the visual evidence.

It took a moment for Laro to understand what he was seeing. Boulders the size of cargo crates had been pushed or rolled or smashed back in a rough circle around them, leaving a clean smooth dent where they stood about two feet down at its center. He blinked at the sight of the mini crater. "Wow."

"First time is always a bitch." Zidane scrubbed his face. "I hate jumping blind. Next time will be a snap. With you all along for the ride, and the other factors, I was a little worried. Burrowing half way into a hillside in the middle of nowhere is one thing, guessing wrong and taking out a city block or somebody's farm would be bad news."

"No kidding." Laro had no problem with landing in the middle of nowhere given the options. It did leave them with the pressing issue of what would be done now. Zidane was looking distinctly grey from his recent effort and none of them had thought to pack for a prolonged jaunt through the wilds. "We should find some shelter so you can rest." Turning around he examined the broken landscape for anything of use.

"Nah. Just give me a second to catch my breath. I'll scoot us over the mountains at the very least. It's not that far to get to where Kuja is."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure thing." The blond stretched out flat, soaking up the sunlight. "Local jumps are kid's stuff. It's the big ones that knock the wind out of me."

It took a bit of an adjustment to his thinking to consider a few hundred leagues 'kid's stuff.' Laro wrestled with it a bit and had to give up. For a man capable of jumping the distance between worlds with magic, he supposed one mountain range would be fairly trivial.

Settling next to the blond he watched as Mikoto and Vivi wandered around their new surroundings in search of things to study. A lizard soon caught their interest, and their antics even drew the Mentor into the chase. Somehow the strange scene was only fitting to Laro's dazed state of mind. Mikoto wore her tail more discretely than Zidane did, but with scrambling over the rocks after Vivi he could catch easy glimpses of it swaying wildly behind her as she counterbalanced on the loose terrain.

"It's funny how childlike she is sometimes and so completely mature she is at others." He commented to his companion. Zidane laughed lightly.

"Isn't it? I think she's hysterical. Not that I'd tell her so to her face of course." The genome propped himself up on his elbows. "She's come a long way, from how she used to be. Wonder what Kuja will make of her."

"I'm sure he'll be pleased to see you both." Laro replied, confused. "Wouldn't he?"

Zidane shrugged where he lounged. "Who knows what Kuja thinks most days. I told him I was coming, so I don't think the shock will be absolute, but I don't know if he was really listening."

"You spoke to him!" The dark man stared at him agog. "When? How!"

"This morning. I had the Crystal amplify me a bit. There was no way I could reach this far on my own."

"Did he say anything?"

"He seemed really out of it." Zidane shook his head. "And I wasn't looking for small talk. I just wanted to get a continent to aim for. We'll check in on him before lunch, yeah? You and Mikoto can get a head start on fixing him."

"Remarkable." Laro could only stare at the shorter man. "All these things you can do so easily. We barely have words for them here. Kuja never did anything like this." Laro looked back on their months together. "Well he went out to the Selwe command carrier during the final battle, I can't explain that. But he never teleported that I could see."

"I don't think he has the knack of it." Zidane shrugged. "I only figured out how to do it after he was gone, and as you say, he's probably been sick a long time. Probably since before he even got here. Now that I'm here though, I have to say, the energy flows on your world are really broken up."

"Probably the Towers." Laro mused. "I told you about how the Selwe had blocked off all of our mages, right?"

"Absolutely no magic anywhere underneath the network, huh?" The genome finally pulled himself up into a proper sitting position, folding his legs flexibly in front of him. "Yeah that might explain what I'm seeing. Makes you wonder, whether the absence of magical energy accelerated or delayed the onset of Kuja's symptoms. We'll ask Mikoto later when she gets a look at him."

"Ask Mikoto what?" The woman in question trotted up to them with a desert gecko carefully held in one hand. "And why didn't I bring any specimen cages? This one is fascinating."

"I don't think Kuja will appreciate you showing up with a menagerie in tow." Her brother drolly commented. "He didn't strike me as a big animal lover."

"He would often steal my specimens." Mikoto frowned at the memory. "It was supremely irritating."

Zidane blinked. "Did he? What did he do with them?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "He'd just take them to the Invincible and disappear with them, back to Gaia."

Laro wondered at the odd anecdote. "What exactly did you use the specimens for?"

Mikoto shrugged. "Behavioral analysis, chromosomal extracts, dissection. The usual. Why?"

Zidane rolled his eyes. "Great, so you'd prod them for a few weeks and then cut them into little bits and study them? No wonder he took them away. Jeez, sometimes I worry about you Mikoto."

She stared at them both as if they had lost their minds. "What did I say? What's wrong with conducting research?"

"Did you ever take into account whether the things you were researching wanted to be abducted from their homes and cut apart in the name of scientific curiosity?" Zidane rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Hell. Forget it. It's not like you had any say. Kuja was many things, little sister, but he wasn't stupid. He knew damn well the same thing would happen to him the minute Garland was done prodding him. No wonder he was so fucked up. What a thing to look forward to."

"I wouldn't have dissected Kuja!" Mikoto recoiled at the idea.

"Sure, you say that now. But then? I bet you would have." Zidane shrugged. "It's just the way you were."

The woman fell silent, staring at the lizard she was still clinging to for a long moment. Gingerly she set it back down on the baked clay surface and let it go. Laro sighed in silent relief as the little animal darted off as quickly as its legs would carry it, a brown blur making a bee-line for the closest pile of rocks. When he got his hands on Masa again he swore he'd never overlook an opportunity to hug and fuss over him. The insights he had received during his adventure had done nothing but reinforce the idea that Kuja had lived a very strange and strained life before escaping from Gaia.

Zidane's expression seemed to echo a little of his sentiment as the young man stood up. "Kuja would have been a lot better off if he had just had the balls to run away from Garland at the get go."

"But where would he have run to?" Laro waved the other two back to their group, preparing himself for another teleportation.

"No idea." Zidane shrugged. "And probably, neither did he. Which is why he never did. Fool never moved an inch without a plan in place." The man sighed and smoothed back his hair. "Let's go. I'm as recovered as I'm going to get without some food and a comfy bed."

Joining hands again, Laro couldn't help but notice that Mikoto looked over her shoulder at the escaped lizard as the landscape flickered and disappeared.

888888888888

When the castle lurched into view Laro was sure he'd never felt so glad to see it as he was at that moment. The day flags were fluttering from the top of the academic complex, and the weather was fine. Somehow they had landed in the northern staging field, just a brisk hike into one of several semi-formal entrances to the main annex. Settling one of Mikoto's bags across his shoulder, he lead the way in, hoping that everything was as normal as it looked after his long absence from home. The pair of guards lounging in the forecourt stared at him in utter amazement, not even attempting to stop his unlikely procession from ducking into the cool interior of the castle. Laro caught a page as the boy darted down the hall, disrupting whatever errand the child had been on to get him to run ahead and warn the doctors and council that he was coming.

After that it was a simple matter to guide his friends up the serpentine corridors and along the western wing until they came to the academic section. Their progress was anything but subtle. Between the alien, the black mage, and Zidane and Mikoto's energetically thrashing tails, it seemed every servant and lower courtier in the building stopped to stare as they went past. Plenty of them trailed after as well, giving Laro the strange impression that he was leading some sort of parade through the back halls of the palace. Seeing that his companions were perfectly content to ignore their audience, he did as well, trying to point out the occasional interesting items as they passed in an unofficial tour.

The giant national hospital complex was attached to the university via a discrete portion of garden at its back. Most of the public could enter the building from the city beyond, but those residents of the castle lucky enough to have connections could dodge the inevitable lines and enter through a private courtyard in the rear of the building. Leading his odd little company down a path lined with flowering hedges he came up short at the entrance, grinning at the hastily formed welcoming committee.

Highest ranked among the assembly was the familiarly hawkish face of the king's principle advisor Duke Riquoi. An assortment of the elderly statesman's assistants, and several military officers filled one side of the courtyard. Doctor Ing and an excited contingent of doctors and students were crowded into the other side. Out of the corner of his eye, Laro noted a flash of color striding across the gardens from the direction of the Dean's office. Graying and esteemed she might be the head of the university was proving she was still as fast on her feet as any of her students. Many of whom were forced to break into undignified trots to keep up with her ground eating pace.

Turning back to the duke, Laro offered a half bow to the noble. "Your Grace, as you can see, I have returned home."

The old man looked a little winded, as if he had just tackled the stairs from his suite down to the ground level in a hurry. Laro received the duke's out stretched hand of greeting with a worried smile. "You shouldn't be running at your age, old friend."

"If you'd come in through the front door like a normal person, I wouldn't have had to." The noble replied dourly. "By Meesham's bones, it's good to see you again, boy. We had started to-" He cut himself off.

"Well that hardly matters now, does it." Riquoi continued. "Did you find anything of use on your adventure? You seem to have suffered no damage from the ordeal, and picked up some new companions along the way."

Always a gentleman, the statesman only allowed himself one curious glance at the most promising of Laro's new arrivals. Zidane stood unabashed under the speculative glance. Slouching stylishly with his hands in the pockets of his tailored coat, the genome studied them all with equal interest. His tail curled back and forth like that of a lion on the prowl. Oddly the most convincing thing, to Laro's jaded eye, was still the profile of the blond man's face. No one who knew Kuja at all could mistake Zidane for anything but some form of close kin.

"Indeed your Grace, I have high hopes that we may have a cure within our grasp." Introducing each of his party in turn to the key personalities in the crowd he couldn't help but itch to get formalities out of the way. The gathering, as welcoming and kind as it was, only delayed his real objective.

It was heartening to know that Zidane had spoken with Kuja only hours - days?- before. But he needed to see him. He needed to confirm with his own eyes that he had accomplished his task in good time. That his lover hadn't suffered unduly in his absence. Judging by Mikoto's preoccupied look as she allowed various courtiers to complement her and her brothers, he knew she felt the same. Luckily, sisterly concern could voice what would have been rude coming from him.

"Please, Doctor Ing. I would very much like to see Kuja now, if I can. If he is as ill as Laro has described, I feel the sooner I can examine him, the better."

"Yes indeed," the doctor was short enough that he and Mikoto were able to see eye to eye, something that seemed to put her at ease. "I would value any insight a fellow doctor can share on the matter, will you all come up?"

It was only after they were half way up the stairs that Laro realized his long time shadow, the Mentor, had gone off on its own. The question soon answered itself however when he entered a new suite that had been given over to Kuja's care. Out on the balcony both aliens were celebrating their own sort of reunion, chattering quickly with each other and the large shard that was never far from them.

_Even bugs get homesick, I guess._ The thought almost made him chuckle, knowing he would have never felt so relaxed around the menacing looking insects a year ago. Following a select mob into the inner cloister of the suite, he pondered what another year might bring.

Kuja was almost lost amongst the pillows of his bed. Looking, if possible, even paler and thinner than when Laro had left. The soldier inhaled sharply at the dismal sight, frightened by the almost skeletal look of his once vibrant paramour.

Zidane, by nature the most resilient of their group hissed softly and then summed up his brother's condition with blunt honestly. "How the hell is it that he's still alive?"

"Zidane!" Mikoto swatted his arm in alarm. Hesitantly she stepped forward to the bed, reaching out to grab one of the wrists lying limply against the blanket. Turning it over gently, she inspected the hand and arm before gingerly applying pressure to read his pulse. "He's fighting," She murmured. "But doesn't have the resources to last long at all."

Turning to the doctor, her expression was all business. "You have been prolonging him with magic, yes? How long?"

"Yes." Ing blinked at the change in her personality. "Well, three months at least."

"Three months?" Laro blinked. "How long was I gone?"

"By tomorrow night, it'll have been five weeks complete since your departure, General Nazer." Dean Finlay let herself into the room and slid around the various observers to stand his side. "To say we were concerned about you, both of you, would be an understatement."

"Dear god."

She smiled faintly. "The king sends his regards, by the way. And welcome back, Laro."

"Five weeks?" He shook her hand, still preoccupied with the length of time. "How is that possible?"

Zidane didn't take his eyes off his sister, but was willing to try and answer anyway. "Some of it might have been travel-time. I have no idea how you got to us, but it might not have been as fast as my methods."

The genome glanced back at him and offered a half shrug. "Honestly my ways aren't instantaneous either, not over distances that far. Time does funny things when you travel between isolated systems, but I tried to compensate for that."

Apparently the dean got more out of the blond's cryptic response than Laro did. She stared at him an avid moment before closing in for the kill. "Do you mean that you're able to travel through time as well as space?"

"They're both sort of the same thing, at a certain level, aren't they?" Kuja's brother scratched the back of his head in boyish discomfort. "I can't really explain it. It just works for me, you know? Anyway I'm pretty sure that it's only been a day or so here since we set out, since I was using Kuja as a target. But there's no telling how far we've shifted from Gaia's standard time flow."

"Garland had a device that could measure temporal drift. It is on board the Invincible." Mikoto offered distractedly while she listened to Kuja's breathing with a borrowed stethoscope. "Not that it was ever tested outside of our local system."

"Well at worse, we're going to get home and find a year or two have gone by." Zidane speculated blandly. "Too late now to worry about it, at any rate. We're here, we might as well do what we came to do and let me worry about recovering the lost time on the ride home."

Mikoto only shuddered at the idea of the return trip before distracting herself with more solvable problems. "Doctor Ing, do you have the facilities to collect and transfer blood between patients?"

Delighting in being put to use, the doctor readily agreed. "The only thing we have been lacking, madam, is a viable donor."

She smiled at the news. "Well now you have two of them. I doubt there will be any fear of rejection. The three of us are genetically identical at the ninety-third percentile. Zidane more so than myself, since he's male."

"Obviously." Snorted her brother.

Mikoto ignored his tease, more focused in digging into one of her bags for a cheerfully-blue syrup filled vial. Handing it to Zidane with a firm, "Here, you'll need this."

"Megalixer? What's this for?" He sighed to find he was ignored again. "Mikoto!"

She turned back to her fellow doctor. "If you would be so kind as to start with Zidane?"

Ing was obviously still trying to digest her earlier comment about compatibility and could only blink at her request. "Excuse me?"

"Kuja needs a transfusion, the sooner the better." Mikoto explained methodically. "Extract what you need from Zidane. If he passes out, give him the potion in the vial he's holding. Wait fifteen minutes. Feed him. Wait another fifteen minutes, and begin the process again. When he passes out the second time just tuck him into bed some where. I'll check on him later. Bring me the equipment to set up the transfusion here and I will handle the rest."

Zidane, blanching at the idea of being used as sentient blood bank held up his hands in dismay. "Hey hey hey don't I get a vote in this?"

"You said you'd help however you could." Mikoto leveled a remarkably Kuja-esque glare at her sibling. "This is what I need you to do. Don't complain. The effect on you will be only temporary."

"Your talking about bleeding me dry here, woman." Zidane made a face. "Can't we at least take turns?"

"Do you want to be the one responsible for cushioning Kuja through the shock of the transfusion for the next eight hours while I sleep?" She pinned him with a look. "I didn't think so. My turn to donate will come tomorrow, provided the initial transfusion goes well."

Looking around Mikoto assessed the rest of the room. "I will need some additional monitoring equipment, if any is to be had. And I will need an adjoining room for myself and Zidane where we can store our bags and rest as opportunity allows."

Dean Finlay bravely volunteered herself for the task, since Ing was already towing the whining Zidane towards the door. "If you'll come with me, Doctor Mikoto? I'll see if we can't introduce you to the ward manager and a few others while Doctor Ing is working."

Laro didn't let out the breath he was holding until both women slipped from the room, little black mage carrying an assortment of bags as he trailed after them. He and the duke exchanged a droll look.

"Intensity of purpose seems to run in the family, it seems." Riquoi offered blandly as they both stood quietly next to Kuja, watching him sleep.

"She's a strange one, there's no question of that." Laro replied. "But I think we can put our faith in her. She has- well- there's a lot riding on Masa's recovery. If there's even a slight chance of healing him, she'll give it her all."

"That's more than we could have hoped for." The old duke reached out and patted the mage's frail hand. "It has been hard, watching him these past weeks. Despite our efforts, he leaves us little by little."

"Does he ever wake?" Settling himself gently on the edge of the bed, he scooped up the same limp hand that Mikoto had studied and gently pressed it between his own, imparting what warmth he could. The odd breathing apparatus and other equipment had been pushed aside in preparation for the woman's examination. He was grateful for the chance to sit with his kitten without worry of getting tangled in tubes and masks.

"Very rarely." Sensing his need to collect his thought, the noble dusted some invisible specks off his formal robe. "Well I think I shall go report to dinner, I'll share the news of your return of course. Why don't we plan for a formal presentation late tomorrow afternoon? That will give you and your new friends a chance to prepare things to your liking and get some rest."

"Thanks."

Alone at last, he shifted until he could perch sideways on the soft bed. Close enough that he could lean forward and lift Masa's hand, cuddling it to his cheek if he wanted; and he did want. He wanted so badly he wondered if it might shake him apart. Their corner of the hospital was well isolated, he remembered, sitting with only the sound of his breathing for company. With the outer door closed, he couldn't hear anything of the hustle and bustle of the hall beyond. Too high up to hear anything from the garden either. It was an eerily silent sort of homecoming.

Tilting Masa's palm so that he could place a kiss on it, he gently leaned against the little hand again, trapping it between his own and his cheek. "I'm back, kitten. Take heart. You're going to be well again before you know it."

It felt funny to speak in a whisper, but stranger still to do otherwise in the stillness of the room. Rubbing his nose against the delicate fingers in a playful gesture, he enjoyed their brief moment of privacy, knowing the doctors would soon troop back in.

"Do you remember," he whispered, "How I used to bring you seashells? I promised you I'd make you something with them rather than just have them cluttering up your night-table, but I never got the chance. I still owe you a necklace."

Taking his eyes off Masa's sleeping face he focused on the trees outside the window instead. It felt strange to be home, half of him was almost convinced he'd never left. His time on Gaia felt particularly dream like when he looked back on it, all of the strange people and places, too much had happened. Maybe tomorrow it would sink-in properly, after he'd had a chance to rest and shower and wear some of his own clothes. Still wearing the dust of the strange world, he found it jarring to be suddenly back where he belonged.

He would have to get up and look busy soon enough. Shower and food and sleep could be obtained once Mikoto and the others returned. He'd only be underfoot with the doctors hard at work. Needing to assure himself that Masa was still there, he cuddled the kitten's hand once more, careful not to bruise him. "I'll have to go in a little while. But I'll try and check on you later."

If he hadn't been holding the slender fingers up against his cheek he might not have felt it. Even so, he almost mistook the vague movement as his own doing. Freezing in surprise, he felt the gentle touch again. Masa's hand moving in a tiny caress, fingers reaching out to brush along his cheek rather than resting limply in his grasp. Looking down he inhaled softly, amazed at the sleepy blue eyes that focused slowly on him.

"Masa? Can you hear me?" He leaned closer to where the man lay, still holding onto his hand.

The silver haired man's eyebrows drew together in a weak frown, but the expression soon faded into a sort of contented lassitude. Laro reached out and ran a finger along his jaw, continuing the gesture up to comb a lock of hair back from his face. "I've brought you back a present." He mustered a grin. "Just be patient a little bit longer."

Masa's eyes slid shut, but the faint smile remained. He took that as a comfort even as he heard the outer door to the suite open and close. Sighing, he settled the genome's hand back on the blankets as the inner door was propped and two young doctors came in loaded with equipment. Vivi trailed after them a moment later with another armful of items. Laro nodded at them and stood up to give them room to work. Slowly moving to take care of his own needs for a bit, he bumped into Mikoto at the door. "He just woke up a minute ago, but drifted to sleep again."

"For the best," She tilted her head thoughtfully. "I'm going to try and keep him sedated regardless. The less he moves the better."

"Why?" Laro asked, curiously watching as she laid out various wrappings and potions from her bag. "If it's not rude to ask?"

"It isn't rude." Mikoto finished her task before focusing on him. "I believe some of his veins have collapsed in his extremities. We will have to heal those as we go, utilizing the life energy inherent in Zidane's blood. If we dump too much blood into his system at once, as weak as it is, it'll just-" She shrugged eloquently, "break apart."

That didn't sound pleasant at all, but there was hardly anything he could do about it. Trying to find something positive to focus on he gestured to the equipment. "But the transfusion will cure him. If all goes well. Right? He'll be healthy again."

Mikoto gave him an odd look. "Hardly. It will resolve many of the symptoms though, and at present that is my priority. As he is right now the cure would undoubtedly kill him."

It was hardly an optimistic thought to leave him with. Laro frowned at the way she calmly turned away to order her assistants to new chores. There was no room in Masa's sister for doubts, or for humanity. This was the real Mikoto, he realized with a little fear. This was the woman as she had been when Masa had known her, in their former lives together in service the monster, Garland. Certainly she was calm, organized, efficient, but along with those beneficial traits came a sort of emptiness that made him shiver. She was almost Selwe like, with her cool intensity. He missed Zidane. He missed the liveliness she had shown when bantering with her other brother, her modest frustrations and worries had been far more attractive. Still, if her expertise could restore Masa, even in the smallest degree, he would gladly welcome her clinical persona.

Bowing slightly to her as she prepped for her task, he made his exit. "Please take care of him."

"I will." She nodded more to herself than to him, already planning what she would need to do. Looking across the bed to where the little black mage stood fussing with his sleeve she waited for him to settle himself. "Vivi are you ready to perform a time-stop if needed?"

"Yes Mikoto."

"Very well then, let's get started."

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His left arm hurt. Kuja considered the problem sleepily. Maybe it was his right arm.

Trying to take stock he willed himself to actually pay attention to the confusing painful signals his body was trying to send. It hadn't actively 'hurt' in weeks, not since the healers had gotten to him after his fall. Mostly it had been numb, which had suited him just fine.

It definitely hurt now.

It wasn't his arm that hurt. It was his legs, he decided. They both hurt; a throbbing feverish sort of pain, like they were swollen for some reason. He couldn't imagine what that should be. It wasn't like he had been walking on them. The thought almost made him smile.

His left arm twinged again and he almost had the energy to flinch. It was his arms, definitely his arms. Pins and needles at the tips of his fingers, a bruised sort of aching at his elbows, rationally the symptoms made no sense.

The only good that came of the irritating pain was that it allowed him something to focus on, and kept him awake. His brain seemed to be working better than it had in weeks. Kuja sighed and tried work up the energy to call to the Selwe usually next to his bed. It would know what the hell was going on.

"He's awake." He heard someone whisper. Kuja silently thanked the woman for stating the obvious.

"Is he? He doesn't look it. Still looks like shit if you ask me. You bled me dry for nothing, sadistic wench." Even as a playful-whisper, there was something familiar about the young man's voice. Maybe it was Gerrick, returned from patrol or wherever else he had wandered off to. Kuja hated being talked about as if he was a bit of furniture.

"Stop whining. Zidane, it's not very chivalrous of you."

"Don't mistake me for Stiner."

Surprise had him opening his eyes before he had meant to. Any thought of subterfuge was forgotten with the mention of that name. Eyes cooperatively focused on his audience far faster than he was expecting, but the sight was enough to have him blink in disbelief anyway.

_Zidane!_

His younger copy looked rather worn out, all things considered. Pale and drawn, with shadows under his eyes, the 'prodigal son' looked very much like he could use forty-eight hours of sleep and a stiff drink. Even so, it was unmistakably Zidane.

Kuja checked the ceiling, and windowed-balcony beyond the end of the bed. All was as it had been the last time he had woken up. When had that been? He wracked his brain but his sense of time was all out of joint from sleeping too much. Laro had been there, that much he was certain of. Laro had sat on the bed and petted him and said-

He struggled to remember. Laro had said something, but it was forgotten now. He would have to get the man to repeat himself when he next stopped by. That was, of course, if he hadn't been some sort of strange dream. Kuja glanced sideways and found his customary alien attendant absent. Zidane would do just as well, he decided and kill two birds with one stone.

Reaching out with a thought, he fought the urge to recoil on contact. There was no mistaking the idiot's golden-warm presence. The particular characteristics of his brother's mind hadn't changed that much since their last encounter. He tried to focus on the important things instead, _Laro was really here?_

_That's the first thing you think to ask?_ His brother grinned in amusement. _Hardly what I was expecting from you.__ He was here, left to get some sleep. He's really your friend?_

Kuja turned the question over in his mind. _Yes_. It seemed the simplest explanation. He didn't have the energy for prolonged answers. He just wanted to know if the man was alright. _He found you?_

"Indeed he did." Zidane laughed and spoke aloud. "He drives a hard bargain. You must have really impressed him somehow. Do you know that he threatened to continue nagging me for the rest of his life if I didn't bring him back here with a cure?"

_That sounds about right for him._ Kuja smiled weakly.

"He's a crazy guy." His former nemesis shrugged. "But I think you'd have to be to try a stunt like that. Trusting your fate to a bit of busted up alien technology? Getting flung on a one-way-trip across the galaxy? Yeah. Nuts."

_Laro would call it, faith. I suppose. _

Zidane simply shook his head. "Well whatever the reason. It worked. Got my attention at any rate. Damn near gave a couple of people in Alexandria heart-attacks though dropping your name like that."

_How did you get here?_

"I jumped." The thief shrugged at his confused look. "Hard to explain, easier to show. It can wait until you're a bit healthier. If I demonstrate it to you now Mikoto will have my hide."

_Oh no, we couldn't have that._ Dazed by the surreal conversation with Zidane, the blond's words took longer to sink in than expected.

_Wait. Did you say 'Mikoto'?_

"Hey Mikoto stop hiding behind me and come say hello." His moronic brother leaned away from him to reach for something just out side of the field of his vision. What he was reaching for turned out to be a slender woman.

Hesitantly stepping closer to the bed, a very familiar face looked down at him, prim lips pressed into a thin line with worry. "H-hello, Kuja."

Suddenly, the pain made a sick sort of sense. He always ended up twisted and hurting when Mikoto was around. This was somehow her doing. How the soulless little drone had managed to survive Garland's fate was a mystery.

Zidane, of course, it was always Zidane, sweeping in to the rescue. And then he brought her here? It was unfathomable. Why go through all the effort to send him away from Gaia just to turn him over to her for experimentation anyway. He wondered if this was some sort of fever-dream but he didn't see how it could be. Fighting back a sudden burst of fury he tried to take a look at the arm currently giving him the most pain, wondering what she had been up to while he had slept. What little he could see of it without being able to move was swathed in bits of bandage and specks of blood.

_At least __Garland__ had the decency to wait until I was -dead- before cutting me apart to see where he went wrong._ He had no idea if she could hear him, but the shock in both his misbegotten sibling's eyes seemed to prove that she did

_What the hell have you done to me, you Terran sycophant! Couldn't you just smother me while I slept if you wanted some sort of revenge for your beloved master?_

"Kuja!" Zidane barked at him. "That's no way to thank the nice sister who's been working to save your pathetic life. She stayed up through the night to do it too! Try to have a fucking ounce of compassion, would you?"

_I hurt._ He flatly replied. _I've been bleeding. She's here. There's a certain past-precedence in these situations that I can hardly ignore. _

"Well you're just going to have to trust me then, aren't you." Zidane scrubbed his face, exhausted. "You know that I wouldn't let anyone go cutting anyone up in their sleep, hell, even when they're dead, the idea sorta gives me the creeps."

The blond man shook a finger at him. "And for what it's worth, that's probably not your blood that everywhere. It's mine. Before Mikoto started the transfusion, Vivi tells me that you didn't even have enough liquid left in you to fill a paper cup. They've been dumping insane amounts of me into you to make up the difference, hence why I feel like crap, and you probably feel like a human pin cushion."

"Discomfort should pass in four or five hours." Mikoto murmured. "You should both rest."

"Best suggestion I've heard all day. Say thank you, Kuja." Zidane grimly said as he staggered to his feet.

It galled him to comply, but getting on the boy's bad side when he was too weak to even lift a finger wasn't a good idea. _Thank you._

"I'm dead on my feet. I'm going to pass out next door. You coming, Mikoto?"

"In a minute." She backed away from the bed only to return with a vial of green powder that she unstoppered gently. Kuja weakly wished he could bat it away, but settled for glaring at her instead. "It's powdered purjam root. It'll help to take the pain away so you can sleep. I can't cast another cure spell on you right now, it would probably only make it hurt worse."

Looking past her to where Zidane watched from the door, he caught the blond's attention. _Where's Laro now?_

"Hell if I know, probably asleep. It's an hour or so until dawn."

_If you see him.__ Tell him-_ Kuja had no idea what exactly he wanted to say, demanding that Laro not leave him alone with his demented siblings because he didn't trust them was hardly a message he could have Zidane of all people carry. _Tell him that I would like to see him, if he isn't busy. _

"Alright." Zidane smiled. "But I don't know what you're so worried about. He's already come by to check on you three or four times, I imagine he'll be back again as soon as he's awake. That man needs a hobby."

_Just tell him._ Kuja obediently raised his head a fraction and inhaled from the tiny bottle Mikoto held out. _Please._

The smell of the sleeping powder reminded him of Gaia, not that he had ever needed to use the narcotic on himself. There had been times however when having someone conveniently take a nap in a non-magical way had been very useful. Drifting off as the drug slowly took effect he had to admit, swollen and aching aside, he was definitely warm. The novelty was almost enough that he might just forgive Mikoto for popping up and terrifying him after all. Not that he trusted her, of course. But if what Zidane said was true, then maybe she might prove of use for once in her life. He'd try and think it through in a few hours. Maybe his brain would work better then.

8888888888888888

Kuja woke a second time with mellow gold of late morning glazing across his face. He blinked a minute, trying to untangle the memories and dreams. It didn't help that Laro was leaning against the doorframe leading out the balcony. The soldier looked happy. Honestly relaxed and un-frazzled. He didn't even want to think about how long it had been since he had seen Laro so calm. Certainly there hard been the rare moments after their lovemaking where the man had been unguarded and peaceful. But other than those sparse moments of pleasure, his only memories of the dark skinned man were ones of frantic effort, or preoccupied worry. He smiled at little at the idea that someone else's quiet relief could bring him a sense of accomplishment.

Between the warmth of the sun and the copious blankets he felt well cocooned where he lay. Had he been less comfortable Kuja would have distracted his lover from the view to come keep him company, but he found he was content to simply watch. Watch Laro watching, whatever it was that brought that bemused sort of look to the former general's face. Shifting a little, he tried to work a lump of blanking digging into his arm out of the way.

_It must have been a dream? The pain is gone_. He turned the idea over in his mind as he weakly held his hands up for inspection. They felt shaky and clumsy to use, he was certain he'd have no grip worth speaking of, but otherwise, the seemed to work just fine. The vivid memory of strange bandages and bleeding from the night before was refuted by the whole and unmarred skin of his forearms. _But that would mean that Zidane was a dream too? Mikoto? What an odd thing for me to delude myself with._

Looking up again, he settled his eyes on Laro and tried to put the pieces together. Surely, it couldn't have all been a dream, pushing through the fragments of the past weeks he remembered how the soldier had left, gone off to find him a cure. If the general had gone away, that meant that he must have come back. How else could Laro have returned, except with Zidane's help? The question was easy enough to answer. All he'd have to do is reach out. If Zidane, or even Mikoto were anywhere on the same planet, he'd be able to feel them. Considering his options, Kuja deliberately didn't extend his consciousness.

Laro turned back from his study of the sky and looked at him with pleased amazement. "You're awake! They told me it was likely, but I didn't believe it."

"I can go back to sleep if you'd rather." Kuja murmured playfully, even as the dark man crossed the short distance between them. He surprised himself with his own whisper, and inhaling experimentally, found he had plenty of breath for conversation and more. The feeling of health was hard to ignore.

"Don't be silly." Grinning, he settled on the edge of the bed, capturing Kuja's hand as soon as it was offered. "I'm just in awe. I never doubted they'd heal you, but so quickly…? No, I couldn't have imagined."

"They?" It was distracting to have to think of serious things. He would have much rather simply wallow in the sunlight, and in Laro's pleasure. "I wasn't dreaming then. Mikoto, Zidane, you brought them here."

"Well, closer to say they brought me." His lover shook his head, looking cheerfully resigned. "I couldn't tell you how he did it if I tried. They used words that have little meaning to me, but the dean was suitably impressed. I think she'd happily study Zidane for a few lifetimes if he was inclined to let her."

"He's not the type to sit still for long." Kuja leaned into Laro's gentle touches, encouraging the hand that slid over his shoulder and arm to continue as it was doing. Even with his depressingly mundane sort of hospital smock getting in the way, he found he missed the simple gesture.

Somewhere he found the coordination to roll a little bit, surprised at how difficult it was. Laro helped a little, shifting out of the way and providing an additional hand in support. He was tired by the time he was able to curl up on his side as he wanted, tucking himself around where Laro was sitting so as to be a little closer to his familiar bulk.

"I'm supposed to ask you how you feel." The dark man chuckled, slowly burying his hand into Kuja's hair. If he had had any native ability to purr, the pressure of Laro's deft fingers against his scalp would have had him earning the name 'kitten' for real.

"Fine." He closed his eyes to better enjoy the contact. "Rather like I've just been mashed to a pulp and put together again, but it's worth it just to be able to breathe, move, think again."

"I'm glad." Laro murmured, thumb sliding along his ear in a momentary caress. "I was- God, when we came back and I saw you- I really thought my luck had run out."

"Not quite." Kuja shook his head a little. "Not yet."

"Mikoto said it was a very close thing. If I had delayed even another week-"

"You didn't." Opening his eyes, he looked up to catch his lover's bleak expression. It only served to make the man look older, tired and worn as he hadn't been moments before. Reaching out he prodded the man with a weak finger to distract him. "Stop borrowing trouble, Laro."

The playful comment had the desired effect, making Laro blink in surprise and then break into a smile. "You're right. Are you hungry? I'm supposed to ask that too."

"A little." Kuja considered the problem for a moment. Gingerly raising his hands, he copied Laro's gesture and ran them through his hair. "Mostly I just feel filthy. Wonder how long it's been since someone had the kindness to wash my hair."

"Probably a good long while. From the sound of it they were afraid to move you at all after I left." The dark man made a face slipping easily back into worried preoccupation. A second poking shook him free of the mood however leaving him thoughtful. "I have explicit instructions about what you can and can't eat, but they didn't say anything about you having to stay in bed. Would you like a bath?"

"I'd kill for one." Kuja sighed dreamily. "But I don't think I can even hang onto a bar of soap, much less anything more useful. I'd drown myself by accident."

"Well certainly leaving you alone in the tub would probably be a bad idea." Laro agreed mildly. "I'm no doctor, but I think I can safely volunteer to assist with a simple cleaning mission."

"You?" Kuja raised an eyebrow in arched commentary. "Are you offering to wash my hair for me?"

Laro blushed a little. "Only if you want. I'm sure Mikoto…"

"No." He shivered at the thought. "No, as much as I'm apparently in her debt, I don't think I would enjoy a bath with her anywhere near as much." Smiling, he tugged childishly on Laro's sleeve. "Would you be so good as to wash my back for me, Great Kai? I promise I'll make it worth your while."

It was worth the silliness to hear the man laugh again. Laro's grin was just as infectious as it had been when they first met. Batting his eyes in a pathetic ploy, he curled closer. "I recollect you used to rather like bathing me, once upon a time." For a moment he even forgot why precisely it had been so long since they had teased each other. Catching sight of his own hand, almost skeletal from his recent ordeals he felt his cheerful mood die. "Of course I wasn't a pallid, half starved wreck of a man at the time."

"You're beautiful."

"I'm a corpse." Kuja disagreed flatly, daring to peer under his shirt and grimacing at the sight of his ribs.

"Just need to be fattened up a little, that's all." Laro refused to be dissuaded. "You'll feel better after a soak. And it just so happens, I know that this time of day nobody will bother us if we lay claim to one of the baths down the hall."

Large hands petted what they could reach of his spine and leg through the blanket, relaxing him against his will. Kuja closed his eyes again, preferring Laro's opinion of his appearance to his own. The idea made him smile again at the simple insanity of it.

"And what's so funny?" The soldier bent down to kiss his cheek.

"You." Kuja caught the man before he could pull away. He corrected the chaste kiss with one that they both could enjoy, taking the opportunity as it was presented. Gentle as it was, Kuja pulled away breathless. "You sir, are either completely blind, or madly in love."

Laro's raised his eyebrows comically. "Well I thought that much was obvious."

Leaving him to his own devices a moment his lover picked through a near by chest and then unapologetically scooped him out of bed. Kuja didn't even try to protest too busy curling close under Laro's chin and keeping his eyes firmly closed against the disorienting perspective.

"You look like Mikoto with your face like that." The dark man laughed after setting him down a few minutes later.

Even feeling the firm wood beneath him, Kuja was hesitant to open his eyes to glare. "I do not."

He was obliged to when he felt Laro shift his grip to reach the buttons on his smock. That would be the first thing to go now that he was conscious, Kuja resolved. He watched it drop to the floor next to the bench with no small joy. Its shapeless form reminded him of his first days with Laro on the beach. He had been subjected to over a month of over-sized or mismatched clothing at the time, and refused to go back to such a humble look again. Better to be swathed in towels for the rest of the day than suffer the indignity of the smock again.

In short order a tub was set to filling, and Laro was pulling off his own clothing as well. It made for a far more agreeable focus than his own faded looking limbs. He refused to be distracted. "And when, exactly did you see Mikoto making a face like mine? Have you decided you enjoy sweeping genomes up off their feet on general principles? I must say I don't think she's your type."

"Your tongue is certainly on the mend." The soldier looked at him with wry amusement. "I happen to know for a fact that Mikoto doesn't like the way your brother travels. She was cringing the whole way here."

"Was she? I'd have paid to see that." Equally amused, Kuja allowed himself to be lifted the short distance and down into one of many of the room's tubs. He propped himself on the edge as his lover eased in with a sigh of his own. The water was plenty hot, doing wonders for his residual aches and stiffness. Whatever he had meant to say was forgotten as the heat soaked through him. When Laro reached over to gather him up, he let the water buoy him over to settle against the larger man's chest.

Content to simply lean against the muscled shoulder, he enjoyed the feel of water and soap being cupped and poured over his head. The soldier seemed to be determined to stick to his word, washing his hair with slow strokes and then maneuvering him to tilt his head back to rinse it clean in the tub, letting the suds float around them. Kuja had to laugh a little at how hard it was to lift his head with the water streaming free of his hair, unavoidably reminded of how weak he was. It felt good to be clean again however, and judging by Laro's look, the man didn't mind the chore. The soldier had a thoughtful look about him, despite his pleasant pastime.

Even as Kuja settled back against his shoulder with a sigh, he could feel the man's worries bubbling up again. "I'm all right, Laro." He murmured against the warm skin.

"I know."

Kuja received a kiss atop his damp hair for his efforts. He sighed in amused despair. "So why do you persist in being unhappy? I almost wonder that you preferred me comatose."

"No!" Large arms enfolded him in a firm embrace. "Not that, never that. I'm just thinking of something she said last night."

"Who?"

"Mikoto. She said, that she couldn't cure you yet because it might-"

Kuja blinked at his hesitance. "Might what, kill me? She was probably right."

"What do you mean?" Laro peeled him off his shoulder to get a better look at him. "Do you understand what she meant by that?"

"Of course." Grumpy about giving up his comfortable spot, Kuja glared at the man. "Idiot. The shape I have been in lately, any sort of therapy would have been fatal. I could barely breathe for myself anymore up until last night. Once I regain a little strength, she and I could put our heads together and think of a couple different things to try."

Shaking his head Kuja could only smile at his strange plan. "Not that I can even pretend to understand her motivation for wanting to help in the first place."

"I think maybe she feels responsible." Laro murmured, letting him slouch forward again, seeking his shoulder to lean against.

"For things decided and done before she was born? That's silly of her."

"You could ask her yourself." The dark man shrugged, not pretending to know the answer.

"Believe me, I will. But later, Laro." Kuja pressed his face into the man's neck, inhaling the almost forgotten scent. "There are some things I find far more important to do, right at the moment."

"Such as?" Laro chuckled as he ran his hands appreciatively along his spine.

"This, for one." Kuja grinned as he rubbed his face lovingly against his pillow, knowing it couldn't be seen. "I'd do more, but sadly I have no energy. So you'll have to wait little while for the rest."

"I would rather you refrained from any unnecessary expenditures of energy until after all transfusions are complete." A horribly familiar and unwanted voice caught them both as they were relaxing into each other's touches.

Laro nearly dunked them both in surprise, jerking alert at their interruption. The supporting arms let go of Kuja so quickly he almost went under with a gurgle before gaining the leverage he needed to stay above water level. His lover corrected his hold as soon as he noticed the problem, but by then any lingering lazy impulse was replaced with a mix of adrenalin and ire.

Turning to look around, Kuja growled at the sight of the slender blonde at the door. "Mikoto. I was wondering when you would crawl out of your hole."

"You were not in your room." She tilted her head. "I was concerned. What are you doing?"

"I felt like going out for a bit." He drawled. "Laro and I were just going to go spar a few rounds then take a tour of the city after we got clean, you know?"

"Any prolonged aerobic activity will require an additional transfusion." Mikoto frowned. "I would ask you to refrain from sexual activity as well. I will wait for you back in the room. It is time for your examination."

"What makes you think we were going to have any?" Kuja sighed dourly as Laro, cowed by her scolding, snagged a bathrobe and discretely removed himself from the tub.

"There is a certain past precedent." He heard her murmur quietly as she ducked out the door. Wondering if she was deliberately throwing his words back at him to shame him, or whether she was doing the unthinkable, and teasing him, he could only blink in amazement. Either way, he was obliged to go and find out.

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I've only noticed in 'fixing' ch 28 that a lot of my formatting for the last 4 chapters isn't showing up on when I post for some reason. This amuses me, but doesn't make for a readable story. If you're baffled, try "www,roodinverse,dreamhost,com" I'd use periods but ff net keeps erasing them along with the formating shrug (my homepage for those who didn't know). The raw html tends to look a lot better. Lunar


	31. And Then You'll Say to Me

**Feather Flight:**** Then You'll Say to Me… (part 31)**

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

Hey, if you're on FF net and the document is weirdly formatted for any reason, try going to my homepage.

Talk of surgery, of cutting and bones, of potential risks, all of it was too far beyond Laro's comprehension. The basics of the matter he understood well enough. Masa would only get better if the device that had poisoned him was removed, and if what he had lost was somehow replaced. Precisely how it was his lover had the piece of technology inside him, and how exactly Mikoto planed to infuse him with new elements from Zidane, he wasn't sure he wanted to understand.

Even the thought of someone cutting into Masa was enough to make him feel sick. And from what little he _did_ understand, there would be a great deal of cutting involved. Warily, he had watched over his lover through the first several rounds of debates. Brother and sister had warred verbally over every step of Mikoto's proposed treatment, questioning, challenging, and finally coming to a compromise. The only thing that had made the macabre experience even remotely tolerable was that he had been all but strong-armed by his mage into his current roll as sort of human bolster-pillow.

Given his options, Laro felt it was no hardship to prop himself against the bed's headboard and act as a sentient pillow for Masa's back. Had he been dismissed to the sidelines while others had decided things without him Laro was certain he'd have gone quietly insane. It wasn't that he had any say now, but at least he could be present, provide what support he could. It helped to know he wasn't entirely useless to his lover.

Secretly, he had vastly enjoyed the quiet moments between visitors when his kitten would just lay against his shoulder. Sometimes he could make Masa laugh with stories from his youth. Most of the time the silver haired man napped and healed, bonelessly relaxed against Laro's chest. Even acting as nursemaid, helping Masa with the mundane chores of bathing, dressing, eating, had a certain nostalgic appeal. It was how they had met, after all, in that sleepy coastal town. It felt like it had been a lifetime ago instead of just two years.

Watching as his little kitten devoured twice as much per meal as he had ever witnessed certainly gave him cause to hope. His mage seemed quite determined to regain his physical strength. Only days after his awakening, he was badgering Mikoto to get out of bed. Much to the relief of many of the doctors, she refused quite sternly to let him do anything more active than sit up unassisted. But Laro had no doubt that Kuja would have his way soon enough. If anything, their increasingly animated arguments were a comforting sign. So long as Masa understood what it was he and Mikoto argued about, and challenged the things he didn't like, Laro couldn't see how he could protest any dangers. And if he occasionally tightened his grip around his lover's waist in fear over the things he heard them debate, at least Masa was kind enough not to tease him about it.

This morning at least, promised to be mostly Mikoto free. Laro nuzzled the top of his partner's head, eliciting a chuckle from the man as he finished the last of an enormous breakfast. "Done?"

"For the moment." Kuja let him set the dish aside, almost purring with contentment as he transferred his interests from food to his other favorite thing. Curling up against him as Laro settled back on the bed, the mage looked fit to doze off again.

"You make me want to rub your belly and scratch under your chin when you look like that. My little kitten stuffed to the whiskers…"

"Laro, as cute as your insistence in my feline quality is, I really must point out that genomes as a whole, aren't supposed to be catlike."

"I've noted on occasion that your brother is more of an oversized monkey, if that's what you're implying." The soldier chuckled. "I actually saw him get his tail around a large wineglass at one point."

"I can't confess myself surprised." Kuja drawled. "I've seen him hang from tree branches by it."

"Are your tails really that strong?" Laro wondered aloud. "How come you've never made use of yours?"

"I think Zidane must have practiced a great deal to get the level of flexibility and strength he has." Masa answered sourly. "At least, I don't think Garland altered his vertebrae from the standard template. I'd have to check with my damnable know-it-all sister to be sure."

"So you could do tricks with your tail too." He received an elbow in the stomach for his pondering, and groaning, reached down to capture the warlike appendage. "Ow. That's not very nice."

"I do not do tricks, Laro Nazer." Masa snorted primly. "I am not a performing monkey."

"I didn't say you were." Still playing the part of wounded, he gave his lover mournful looks until the man relented and gave him a kiss. "I just think it'd be handy to have a prehensile tail. Wouldn't it be fun to be able to close doors, or the like?"

"The effort it would take to successfully turn a doorknob would be far better spent just turning around and using a hand." Masa shook his head. Frowning he shifted and demonstrated his own lesser potential. The tightest the silver furred appendage seemed able to twist was about the diameter of Laro's wrist. The maneuver required some effort it seemed, Masa relaxed the pose after only a moment, letting his tail resume its former resting place tucked down against his legs. "Besides, what use is an appendage firmly attached to one's backside? It's hardly a convenient location."

Laro stifled a laugh, caught sight of Masa's arch look, and promptly had to stifle another. "I refuse to answer that on the grounds that if I do you'll label me a pervert."

"You _are_ a pervert, Laro. Mine, to be precise." A kiss softened the pronouncement. The silver haired man shifted until he was comfortably ensconced in Laro's lap, lounging against his chest. "You are also, without a doubt, a paragon of a man in every other sense. So let this be your one, and paltry flaw."

"If you say so, it must be true." Laro set aside his teasing for a moment, enchanted by the laughter in his mage's eyes. Even intimately close, Masa looked dramatically improved. Some combination of Mikoto's treatments, and his voracious appetite had worked wonders at filling in the hollows in his face and limbs. His kitten was still alarmingly thin, compared to how he ought to be, but at least the man was no longer skeletal. Pleased beyond words at the recovery he'd witnessed, Laro hugged Masa firmly and buried his face into his silky hair. "I would give anything to see you healthy again."

"Who knows." Masa sneaked a hand free to catch his cheek, drawing him closer for a warm sort of kiss. "You may just get your wish by the end of the week."

Not wanting to think about the mechanics of the cure that would take place, Laro cast about for something else to say. Happily a gust of breeze from the open balcony windows gave him an opportunity. "Well, what would you like to do in the mean time?"

"Other than sleep and eat, you mean?" Kuja laughed freely. "A person could get used to this level of indolence, I fear. Really I must get out of this thrice-damned bed today, or I shall go quite quite mad."

"Easy enough to accomplish." Laro shifted to get his arms around his lover properly and lift, but found his armful to be suddenly squirming free in a playful manner. "Hey now!"

"Under my own power, if you please, sir! I may not be a kitten, but I am not a doll either!" Laughing Masa found the dexterity to escape, nearly rolling on the floor as he did. Laro reached out to steady him near the edge of the bed until the genome could get his breath back. Flipping his hair playfully over his shoulder as he looked back, Masa sighed, and offered him an autocratic look. "I will however, allow you the honor of assisting me off the bed."

Hauling himself to his feet first, the soldier swept a ludicrous bow. "Your wish is my command."

Still tangled in the sheets, Masa tried to reach the closest pillow to throw, but couldn't quite get his fingers around it. Laro prevented a second attempt by claiming the outstretched hand and using that to leverage his lover up into a sitting position. "Shall we see how wobbly you are?"

"I'll have you know I never 'wobble', sir." His kitten was still pretending to be haughty, but his eyes twinkled at the sport. Unfortunately his legs were determined to prove him a liar. As soon as he tried to stand his knees buckled, leaving him grabbing onto Laro's arms as the soldier caught him. Glancing upwards, still entertained, Masa didn't let the failure upset him. "I might collapse on occasion, but never _wobble_."

Acting on whimsy, Laro not only pulled Kuja to his feet but easily hoisted him up into the air until he could get an arm beneath his tail and support him. Pinned against his stomach and chest like a child, the genome almost yowled in surprise. But even stubborn kittens knew better than to punch the man holding them aloft in the head out of spite, so his struggles were somewhat hampered by his desire to not fall.

Earlier, Masa had demanded his blue lounging robe, claiming he was sick to death of all the drab hospital colors he was surrounded by. Now the brilliant shade contrasted beautifully with the pale skin of his neck and shoulders. Shifted well askew from their recent struggle it was more of an accent than a piece of apparel.

Leaning forward, Laro pressed his face against the thin shoulder, listening to his kitten's excited heartbeat. The need for something more was too sweet to dismiss. Parting his lips to taste the smooth bounty in reach the soldier reminded himself of everything he had mourned the loss of in recent months.

It was growing progressively harder, he found, to spend all day in close quarters with his lover and maintain his promise to 'not encourage anything'. The healthier Masa became the more playful, and willful he was. And while Laro was confident _he_ had taken all of Mikoto's dire warnings to heart regarding Masa's need to rest, he was almost equally certain that if asked, his lover would have a considerably different opinion on exactly how much rest was required.

Even now, Masa was doing anything but pushing him away. His mage's silk covered arms gave up shoving playfully at Laro the minute his tongue grazed his collarbone. Instead Masa twined around his neck, arching forward in his arms to let him kiss wherever he wanted. "Laro."

Too absorbed in the taste of Kuja's skin to answer immediately, he traced a series of fine tendons up his mage's neck to nip at his ear first. "You want something?"

"Bastard." Laro touch was returned to him in kind, his lover tasting the edge of his jaw with needy little kisses. "If you make me spell out what ought to be perfectly obvious, I swear I will leave you and take up with someone else." Teeth pricked his neck in a way meaning business. "It would serve you right if I took up with Gerrick."

"He'd never have you. He likes getting the last word in too much." Laro laughed at his own joke, and at Masa's confounded expression. Squeezing his kitten close, he was amazed to find he no longer felt any jealousy regarding the distant soldier. Somehow he just didn't find the young man so threatening anymore. Kuja had made his choice along time ago, after all. The months of nervousness that he had felt at the beginning of their relationship were his own fault. He had simply lacked the confidence to believe in his success, to believe that Kuja knew what he was doing, throwing his lot in with a soldier without much to recommend him. Time and events had clearly demonstrated to Laro, his kitten's instincts were rarely wrong in the end. He pressed his face back against the genome's neck. "I love you more than anything."

"Show me." Masa demanded roughly.

Pulling back to study his face, Laro found he was trapped by his lover's blue-eyed stare. Masa's look burned into him with something far warmer than simple affection. Given the choice of upsetting Mikoto, or disappointing his lover when he was obviously needed, he resolved to apologize humbly to the woman, should they get caught.

"As you command." Laro agreed, slowly lowering them both onto the tangled remains of the bed.

Kuja tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair, torn between being charmed at how it was possible, despite Laro's generally tanned hue, for the large man to blush to the ears, and then being irritated beyond belief at Mikoto's uncooperative attitude. Tearing his eyes away from where his lover was fussing with an already tidy bed, he settled them on the slim woman standing in front of him. She was just as obstinate as ever when she felt he was trying to slip one past her. He sighed at the lack of doctor-patient empathy she exhibited.

"I really don't see what you're so worked up about." Shouting never worked with the woman, maybe her improved interpersonal skills would allow him a means of attack via more reasonable channels. "It wasn't like we were planning a marathon session or anything. It was just a harmless bit of cuddling."

Laro winced at the bluntness of his comment, but luckily he was well behind Mikoto, so she missed the look. She would have missed it anyway, given that she could only stare at him as if he had taken a blow to the head. "I really must ask you, what part of physical intercourse do you consider to be part of a regimen of strict rest and recuperation? I had assumed I could trust you both to be mature adults in this regard, but I now wonder if I ought to appoint Zidane to monitor your behavior when I am unavailable."

"You don't want to do that, Mikoto. Laro gets embarrassed in front of an audience. And despite our brother's many travels, I'm not entirely sure he's worldly enough to appreciate a lesson from me on the subject of sexuality without overheating. He strikes me as more of a 'dip your wick and roll over' type."

"Kuja!"

To his amazement, he could detect the beginnings of a blush. He raised an eyebrow at the evidence, wondering if it meant that his little sister was embarrassed by association, or whether she had any experiences of her own already. Propriety was something a person had to learn, after all.

The old Mikoto wouldn't have batted an eye in discussing even the lewdest acts of sexual congress. She'd have probably made it sound about as interesting as a lecture on high-energy physics, but she wouldn't have been embarrassed. Curious, he had to ask, "And precisely where have you picked up your quibbles from, woman. Certainly wasn't Garland. He had all the libido of a stale loaf of bread."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." She sniffed primly. "But I would hardly call our brother a-" She fought with the expression he had used before giving up. "I know that Garnet is very satisfied with his performance in that regard!"

"I wouldn't advise picking up morals from the Alexandrian court. They're so dowdy and behind the times there." Smiling at what she had revealed, he saved the tidbit to torture Zidane with later. "Well well, so Garnet is satisfied with such a juvenile husband? To be fair, he's probably her first and only. She hardly has the experience to rate him by comparison."

"We are not talking about Zidane." Mikoto growled. "We are talking about you and your blatant refusal to heed some perfectly sensible instructions."

Stretching his legs out on the footrest, he smirked as Laro made his escape. Apparently conversations about immanent mortality were 'just-bearable' to the former soldier, but frank discussions of his performance in bed were too much. He couldn't blame the man. Mikoto's voice grew rather shrill when irritated.

Kuja sighed. "We really need to work on your bedside manner, little sister. You're supposed to encourage your patients to get well by cultivating their interests and letting them find ways to enjoy life again. You're _not_ supposed to imprison them in their suites and then bore them to death by forbidding them any small pleasures."

"You could have done yourself serious damage!" She stood unmollified.

"We were exceptionally careful." He disagreed. "And should I decide that I wish to avail myself of Mr. Nazer again, I assure you that we will continue to be careful. I do have some interest in my own health, after all."

Kuja held up a hand to delay the rejoinder. "Since you don't seem to be interested in asking, I will also point out that I feel fine. Better than I have in months. The modest exercise was doubtless good for me."

Muttering something about false highs and endorphins, Mikoto caught his wrist for a pulse. The temporary truce heralded Zidane's sudden arrival at the door. He looked at them both warily. "What were you two bitching each other out about this time? I could hear you shouting half way down the hall."

"Sex."

"Treatment." Mikoto answered simultaneously, overruling his playful answer with a quelling look. Humoring her, he smiled agreeably at Zidane, letting the boy wonder whether his answer was a joke or not. The blond gave them both a confused look before shrugging and dismissing the matter entirely.

"Well I just wanted to stop by and see if you needed me for anything for the next day or so. Now that I seem to have all my blood back in my veins I thought I'd wander around and see the sights. Do a bit of exploring before you need to mess me up again." Even Zidane wasn't above mining for pity. Kuja was amused to see his younger brother give their sister a pathetic look. Unfortunately for Zidane, such things generally went right over Mikoto's head. Her emotional awareness was simply too weak to pick up nuances.

"Maybe the Selwe will let you sign their treaty instead of me." Kuja pondered idly. "Would save me a lot of fuss and bother, at any rate."

"Nah, they have got a serious complex about you, as far as I can tell. They think you're the greatest thing to ever happen to them. Half the bloody planet seems to." Zidane laughed. "Hell if I can understand it, I think you're just as nuts as ever."

"Thank you." He replied drolly. "Go exploring if you want. You're just underfoot here and I can call you back when we have need of your assistance again." Having masterfully derailed Mikoto's plan for a chaperone, he turned to level an authoritative look in her direction. "Now then, why don't we set aside our former debate for something far more relevant to the current moment."

"Which is?" Her tail twitched in frustration.

Kuja gestured to the door Zidane had just come in by. "I feel almost certain that tomorrow I shall want to re-acquaint myself with this business of walking. Surely you won't disagree, especially considering how much mischief I may get up to when forced to stay in bed."

Baffled, Zidane stared at his two siblings as they glared at each other. "Um, guys, did I miss something?"

After the altogether embarrassing conclusion to his otherwise perfect morning with Masa, Laro had decided to give the siblings some time alone together. He had had a deep suspicion that had he stayed in the room any longer, he'd have borne witness to fur and feathers flying. Sometimes Mikoto and her brother were frighteningly similar, even the stubborn set of their shoulders was the same. Whether birthed or designed through magic, it seemed that brothers and sisters could always find an excuse to fight. Laro just didn't feel particularly comfortable being the topic of the current argument. However things were settled, he'd hear about it at dinner. Until then he was determined to make himself scarce, checking in with his peers and officers in a rare bout of conscientiousness about his forgotten duties.

Luckily for him, and for the army at large, there wasn't much need for a general's direct input during the process of disarmaments and pay outs. Slowly but surely, the forces he had marshaled into battle were being redistributed, many of the soldiers opting out to return to their various homes and family, others choosing to stay on a while longer to aid with reconstruction and policing. It was all rather interesting really, and far more benign than the sorts of commands he had undertaken over the years. Laro found himself drawn into an informal meeting where the annual harvests were discussed, and plans were drawn in case of food shortages in the spring. Afterwards he chatted with several young engineers who each proposed an equally innovative approach to refitting many of the army's tents and supplies into new civilian uses.

Strolling back with two of his aides that had the latest reports from the south, he had the honor of bumping into the King himself. The man looked far better rested than he'd ever seen before. Apparently peace time was working wonders for a lot of people's health. He dipped his chin to the monarch, wondering exactly how long it had been since they'd last set eyes on each other. Odd how even living in the same castle, he rarely needed to interact with the king himself. It didn't help that each of them was rather retiring in their own way.

"General Nazer. I was actually thinking of trying to get word to you." Up close, the king always gave the impression of being nearsighted. But his smile was hopeful as he waved off his usual bevy of attendants and clasped hands in greeting. "Our audience when you returned was far too abrupt, and while I've had the pleasure of meeting our guests since then, you've been hiding from me."

"Mr. Zidane and Miss Mikoto are easily twice as entertaining as I am, your majesty." Laro returned the friendly greeting. "And I admit. I've been uncomfortable leaving Ma- Mr. Kuja alone."

"Well of course." The king waved a hand dismissively, "I would hardly take you from such a personal duty. He is doing well I'm informed? Perhaps we could schedule a quiet evening entertainment soon and invite you both. I have been eager to thank him for all he has done for us, but Dofo has scolded me to patience."

For a minute Laro had to pause, thrown by the relatively lengthily speech. It was rare to hear his monarch string more than a few words together on any given day, due to natural shyness and the rather formulaic nature of his duties. To have such a flurry of questions volleyed at him was a bit of a shock. It took another moment to remember what Duke Riquoi's first name was, and so understand the final element of the king's confession. Bowing slight, he offered his honest answer. "I'm sure Mr. Kuja would be very happy to receive any message or visit from you, majesty. He has recovered to the degree that he now finds his rooms rather tedious, and always interested in distraction."

"Excellent, that's excellent news." The monarch smiled hesitantly. "I will send the duke to you as soon as preparations are made."

Not entirely sure what preparations his king was talking about, Laro could only nod respectfully. The courtiers whisked the man away soon enough. Left perplexed he could only continue to meander his way down the long corridors, catching up with friends and officers.

Masa was up and about, when he returned to his room at last, intending to join his lover for dinner. Someone had kindly found him a cane, which he leaned on quite heavily, but other than that he was looking more than a little pleased with himself. Laro smiled at the charming sight. Behind his lover, there was a little breakfast table that had so far gone unused. It was set for their meal. He raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry. Masa only shuffled around and gestured that they would sit. Not really comfortable with it until the silver-haired man was safely settled in his chair. Laro conceded that despite the tremor he could see in Masa's movements, it was good to see him upright.

"I thought we might eat like civilized people for a change." His kitten offered mildly, lifting a cover off the closest dish.

"Alright." Laro agreed as he poured the wine.

"And tomorrow… I think I shall go for a walk." Masa smiled, blissfully ignoring the incredulous look shot his direction.

Kuja looked up from his book, surprised at who was hovering at the door. Vivi seemed at a loss now that he had knocked and been admitted. Shuffling his little feet, the black mage did not have the courage to close the distance between them.

Feeling rather awkward about the situation himself, Kuja set his collection of plays aside and folded his hands in his lap, feeling rather as if he was giving an audience, rather than simply addressing a friend of his sister's. He had spoken to Mikoto nearly every day, Zidane as well, while his brother was not out wandering his way 'round the earth. Of Vivi, he had seen very little, except as his sister's fleeting shadow. The healthier he had become, the less the black mage had stood attendance, such that it had been days since he could last recall catching sight of the little man.

The mage fiddled with his sleeves and then found his voice. "I hope I am not intruding."

As child like in tone as the day he was created, the little creature was hauntingly familiar after a fashion. Black mages all looked the same after all, he had never bothered to create variations. But this one wasn't mass produced like the others. This one he knew inside and out, having built him by hand.

"You are the first." Kuja murmured more to himself than to his guest. "Your friends called you Vivi, didn't they? Did you name yourself? Or did someone else gift you with it?"

"I was given my name." The small mage reached up to settle its hat, seeking reassurance from the familiar. "Grandfather took me in. He decided that I should be called Vivi."

"It is a fair name. There are worse ones." Kuja smiled slightly. "I admit. I have been interested in speaking with you. But I was hardly going to blame you, had you chosen to avoid me. You have little cause to consider me a friend."

"Many of us died in the war." Vivi spoke softly. "Many more of us died afterwards. It was very sad."

"Mikoto has been working to correct this, I gathered. Laro has told me something of his adventures. Has she been of use?"

Vivi blinked and then visibly brightened; his pleasure about his friend's achievements obvious. "Miss Mikoto has done many wonderful things for us. She is very wise. She is always looking for ways to improve our design."

"She is rather brilliant, isn't she." Kuja rested his chin on his hand, amused to find he was actually inclined to be pleased about the compliment to his sister. "She's still a little blunt. Forceful, for my tastes, but those habits will relax in time."

Tapping his fingers against his chin he voiced a question he had wondered about since hearing his lover's description of the Black Mage village. "So, for the most part, your lives progress… satisfactorily? Is freedom everything you wished for?"

"Oh yes." Vivi gestured eloquently. "Together with the genomes, we manage to have almost everything we need. Even when things are difficult, we remember that we have ourselves, we have our future that we can make with our own hands."

The little mage had taken a few steps forward in his excitement and checked himself again. "I even have a son now, thanks to Mikoto's efforts. He wishes to explore the world, as I did when I was young. I never grow tired of watching him develop."

"A son?" Kuja tilted his head. "How remarkable."

"Mikoto is very wise." Vivi repeated himself softly.

"Indeed." He considered the sun as it slipped just slightly below the rooftops on the far side of the city. His current apartment wasn't as familiar as the one he had shared with Laro, but the hospital complex commanded much better views of the core of his borrowed homeland. It was strange how everything was so alien, and yet still comforting. Kuja wondered what Vivi and the others from Gaia made of it. To them it was just an odd place to visit, no doubt. Vivi, at least, seemed wistful for his home.

"You've come a long way just to be her friend in this place. With luck her chore here will be over by the end of tomorrow and you can make your plans to go home."

The little mage twisted his oversized hands together, nervousness returning. "In truth, I also came because I wanted to speak with you."

"After our last encounter, I'm amazed that I have anything to say that you'd have any interested in." Kuja couldn't help but be curious. "It seems that you've come an altogether ridiculously long way if all you want is to berate me for my past actions."

"For good or ill, you gave us life." Vivi shrugged. "We have made our peace with that. For the gift, we thank you humbly, even if the reasoning behind it was despicable."

"Well said, little mage." Kuja wasn't offended. Really, it was hard to contemplate being chewed out by someone so small and rolly-polly. The black mages were designed for economy of material, and for their magical prowess, but even so, he had a vague memory of wanting them to look somewhat sinister. The specially made Black Waltzes had possessed an authoritative air at the least. Vivi however had a tendency towards clownishness when he moved.

"Mikoto- Mikoto has done many things for us." Vivi began slowly. "But she- everything she knows about us is what you left behind in Alexandria; or what she has gleaned from studying us. So there are things that she doesn't know, things that her science cannot discover."

"And there is something you feel she is incapable of? What knowledge do you seek?"

The mage turned to look out the window. "We are not ashamed of our powers, our ability to control fire and ice, wind and time, but it is somewhat distressing to us that there is no balance."

"How do you mean?" Kuja mused.

"Why is it, that none of us have the ability to heal? Why is it that there is no ability for white magic among us?" Vivi pondered aloud. "We cannot help but think that this is a flaw, but Mikoto cannot explain it."

"It was hardly my intent to design an army of healers." Kuja pointed out with certain humor. "You were constructed and filled with such energies as would be useful, nothing more and nothing less."

"Do you know how frustrating it is?" Vivi turned back to him with glowing eyes. "Can you understand, what is like to have a wounded friend, or a sick child, and have all the power in the world, and still be unable to help?"

The little mage shook his head angrily. "What use is our magic, if all it is good for is rending and ruining. What we need now is something better. We need to grow beyond just our war-like origin and become something more, something self sustaining!"

"Mikoto has certainly seen to that. You have your son to boast of, after all."

"A son I would have lost to a snake bite, had Mikoto not distilled a potion as quickly as she had." Vivi shook his head again. "There must be a way. You created us, you know everything there is to know about our construction. Is there nothing we can do? Are we doomed to be little better than war machines forever?"

Kuja stood slowly and walked out onto the balcony. Turning his face into the breeze stirred up with the setting sun, he contemplated the red-orange tinge to the tiled roof below him. Strands of his hair lifted and tickled his cheeks also picking up the red-orange color of the light, reminding him of trances and transformations. How odd to hear his own internal questioning of fate coming from such an unlikely source.

/ And so the prototype questions' his maker. Asking why it has to be so, asking for some hope for the future… It's a wonder I still don't bear the scars from your answer, Garland. You never did like it when I talked back to you. /

"You don't ask for a simple thing, Vivi." He gripped the thick stone railing a moment and then let it go. "It has been a long time since I've thought of such things as what you are asking. Even my memory isn't infallible, and I lack the tools I used to have."

"If we do not ask you now, we may never have another chance." The little mage fussed with his coat. "Tomorrow Mikoto will attempt to heal you. It is not without risk, for you, for Zidane. I worry. If something goes wrong-"

"An opportunity lost, hmm? It's a fair worry."

"Even if you could only explain a little of your design. Perhaps Mikoto could make some use of it?" The small man was persistent.

"The mist from which you were constructed has both light and dark aspects to it; as do all souls." Kuja spoke his thoughts aloud. "The dark aspect, I focused and refined. That is what you exhibit when you give shape to your will. The light aspect, I used as raw energy. It is that element to your energies that keeps you 'alive' in the manner that you are; the raw power of animation and even your awareness of self."

"To change this balance within you, without very careful study, could result in you burning up your fundamental life force with every spell you cast. What good is a healer who dies in trying to save another?" He turned back and gave Vivi a considering look. "Ironically it is that 'goodness' that vitalizes you, that inevitably made you slip from my control, I wager. If I had reversed the balance, and powered your bodies with wickedness, but let you draw your magic from the lighter aspect, what would you have become then? Cruel healers, of some sort, it is hard to imagine."

"Would it be possible to sacrifice a small amount of our dark energies, in trade for a small amount of light?"

"Add a little wickedness to your nature in exchange for a weak talent at healing others?" Kuja nodded, "Aye, that would be the best solution, but it would be a cruel thing to test out on the unwitting I think."

"Mikoto would find a way."

Turning the idea over, Kuja had to smile. "She just might. But even you must admit, creativity is not her strong point. Even with the tree she made for you, I'd wager she was inspired by the remains of the Ilfa Tree I left behind. Mikoto works best with a template."

"So it is hopeless then." Vivi sighed softly. "I had feared as much."

"Perhaps." Kuja shifted to look over his shoulder, weighing his petitioner's request. "But that doesn't mean it isn't worth an attempt. You're in luck; I've become quite a fan of lost causes lately."

Laro returned from a meeting with the regional council to find Kuja's room quite empty. Even knowing his lover was more than well enough to go out and about into the castle; his absence caused a momentary chill. Given the option of sitting around waiting for Masa to come back, or checking his usual haunts, Laro immediately chose the later.

The most obvious place to begin was down the hall in his sibling's suite. Mikoto and Zidane were engrossed in a child's game of cards, and blinked in surprise to find their brother had slipped past them. Laro made light of the event for their benefit, and assured, they left him to his investigations.

There was no one in either of the open walkways bordering the gardens. No one was hiding in his old suite either, but he hadn't expected anyone there. Everything Masa or he himself had wanted was already relocated to their new rooms. The old ones, while nice, were at the moment just storage.

Not wanting to pester the duke, he questioned a servant instead. They hadn't seen Masa paying a visit to the east wing, nor had any of his guardsman seen the man prowling the map rooms. Growing genuinely curious, Laro headed downstairs to the college quadrangle to see what the students knew. Somehow it was no surprise at all, to pick up his trail at the door to the library.

Following the directions of the girl at the desk, he made his way through the labyrinth of books to where the workrooms in the back were lit by double shielded-lanterns. Masa stood with his back to the door, deep in conversation with the little black mage. Both of them were far to occupied in studying a paper on the table to notice his arrival, apparently arguing its relative merits. Amused, he tapped gently on the doorframe to get their attention.

"It's past the time when all good little scholars retire for the evening, you know."

"Laro?" Masa turned to give him a surprised smile. "What ever are you doing here?"

"Looking for you." He nodded to Vivi and invited himself in for a closer look. The paper they were studying was actually filled with handwritten equations. Laro blinked and grimaced, realizing that half the symbols defined were a complete mystery to him. "You know, I used to think I had a grasp on mathematics-"

"You still do, I'm sure." His lover picked up a pen and added a new line with a contemplative look. "But this isn't exactly math. Closer to chemistry, really, or perhaps alchemy…"

"I thought alchemy was a myth, turning lead into gold or some such." Laro took the opportunity to catch Masa's shoulders as the silvery man was bent over his notes, gently squeezing them in greeting. Far from pulling away from the gesture of affection, Masa finished his annotation and stood straighter; leaning his direction to welcome a proper embrace.

"It's an easy enough conversion. You'd need to extract seven neutrons and release three electrons for every atom however. The process would require a substantial amount of energy, and likely some unpleasant waste products." The mage's explanation, like most of the conversations from the past weeks, went right over Laro's head. "An endeavor of that nature almost always requires more time and effort than just mining the gold in the first place."

"I have no idea what you are talking about. But I'll take your word for it." Laro rested his chin on his lover's head, not particularly concerned that he was a hopeless dunce by comparison. "So will this calculation of yours take much longer? Or can we resume this in the morning?"

Masa leaned back further into his chest, trusting him to support his slight weight. "Tomorrow will likely be too late, as you well know. The procedure will take considerable time, and Mikoto will want to start early."

"All the more reason why you should be resting." Laro fought to control his sudden fears. If no one else was acting outwardly worried, he wasn't about to make a scene. Ironically Masa was the first person to have even mentioned his upcoming ordeal all day. Laro wondered if the general silence on the talking-point was for his lover's benefit, or for his own. Grudgingly, he conceded that it wouldn't be the first time that people had tried to 'buffer' him from bad news concerning his kitten.

"Wait for me a moment, we're just about finished." Pushing his silver hair back from his face, Masa turned to the patiently waiting little mage. "I beg your indulgence, Vivi. It seems that I have come as far as can be gone, without an element of experimentation involved. And as I mentioned before, I have no equipment for it here."

"Will Mikoto understand your theory? If we present it to her?" Vivi tilted his head, his oversized hat giving the impression it would fall off with the gesture.

"Very likely." The genome pursed his lips. "But I feel I ought to warn you that there is significant risk involved, for all the reasons I mentioned before. It may take one or two attempts before a stable balance of coefficients is achieved. She won't have access to the simulation environments that I did on Terra."

"And what would happen to those created with unstable coefficients?" The mage questioned softly.

"Premature burnout would seem the most likely thing. There are other, less pleasant possibilities."

"Death, then." Vivi stated. "In some form or another."

"It is very likely that some should die." Kuja agreed. "Given your recent ordeals, and newly founded community... I cannot say I recommend this course of action."

Not understanding, Laro still didn't like the sound of it. He knew better than to jump in on the middle of a conversation however, and so had to settle for squeezing his lover a little closer, providing what silent support he could. Masa raised a hand to cover his, accepting the offer for what it was as they waited for the black mage to reach his conclusions.

"We will consult with Mikoto. And with each other." Vivi sighed heavily. "This is not a decision I can make by myself. We would all have to agree to it, or agree to accept our current design."

"That would seem the wisest course." Masa agreed. "Perhaps she can use these equations as a start for a better theory. I cannot say."

"Thank you for trying." The little mage carefully folded the large page several times, until it was small enough to fit in a coat pocket. "I will tell the others how you have changed. I will tell them what you attempted on our behalf."

"Good luck." Masa sighed as Vivi disappeared into the stacks.

Left in the alcove with the silently flickering light, and a silently thoughtful mage, Laro settled for letting the man reach the end of his meditation. Strangely, the library didn't seem such an odd place to cuddle. It had a private sort of feel to it, when all the students had returned to their rooms. At length, Masa inhaled deeply, and seemed to gather himself together. Laro kissed him on the temple to remind him he wasn't alone. "Are you all right?"

"I find it peculiar; the way life parallels itself sometimes. There's a lesson in that somewhere." Turning to wrap his arms around him, Masa rested his cheek against Laro's coat. "For doing so little today, I feel completely worn out."

"You're still recovering." He offered gently, taking the opportunity to cradle the back of his lover's head. Masa's long mane felt cool as it swept over his knuckles.

The mage shook his head. "It's not that. More- I don't know, I'm just tired of people, is all."

Laro shifted his grip until he had an arm around the slight man's shoulders and slowly guided him out of the library. He was just civilized enough not to sweep Masa up off his feet and carry him off to their rooms, but the temptation was definitely there. "People? Or being reminded of Gaia?"

"Maybe I'm just sick of 'serious' things." His kitten shook his head playfully. "I never used to take anything terribly seriously back on Gaia. Well, no, I took a few things seriously, but I never _talked_ about them. Now it seems that everyone is coming to me for knowledge, as if my guesses are better than others. Everything I say will be examined, analyzed, weighed for merit. It's exhausting being so erudite all the time."

Laro laughed softly as he lead the way back upstairs. "In that case I will promise to not ask you anything more challenging this evening than whether you would like the soufflé or the chicken for dinner."

"If I eat anymore I shall become unforgivably fat." Masa sighed wearily. "And then what will I do to keep your eye from roving?"

"I don't know, plump might be a good look for you." Laro grinned. Reaching back he caught his lover's hand and gave it a squeeze. "You could look cute."

The genome rolled his eyes, not inhibited by the love he felt for the larger man from punching him in the arm. "Are you insane? I would look ridiculous. I refuse to be anything like plump!"

"Well just have to make sure you exercise then." Laro pulled him closer as they walked the empty hallways, eventually managing to tuck an arm around his waist.

Kuja bided his time until they were back in the secure comfort of their rooms before goading his soldier to cuddle him closer. He sighed happily as Laro ran an appreciative hand down the side of his body, beneath his robe. Taking his time undressing them both, he blithely ignored the dinner that had been thoughtfully laid out.

"We could test your idea of exercise now?"

"Mikoto will kill me." His lover pointed out. It did not stop the man from resting his exploring fingers playfully atop Kuja hips as soon as they were bared.

"She's small, you could take her." Kuja disagreed. He slipped a hand beneath Laro's shirt and happily slid his fingers across the warm muscle he found beneath.

"She'll get Zidane to do it…" Distracted by Masa's non-verbal persuasion Laro's heart wasn't in the argument.

"Hmmm, that would be problematic." Kuja murmured, teasing his lover's throat with his mouth as he did. "But really, Zidane will probably blush beet-red and pass out if he caught us in the middle of something."

"So you're saying our best defense is for us to just get on with it and face the music later?" At this Laro had to laugh again. It took him only a moment to make his decision, which in soldierly fashion he acted upon immediately. Yanking back half the neatly made blankets, he sat down on the mattress and pulled his lover forward to settle in his lap.

Kuja sighed quite happily as they settled into a former tangle, leaching off of Laro's constant heat as he had so often done before. Amused, he wondered if the man was ever cold. With a suddenness that made him catch his breath, he realized that someday he'd likely find out. The idea of a future together with Laro clicked into place. There was something terribly beautiful about it, almost unreal. A future that simple? With no apparent draw backs? It couldn't possibly work.

Feeling his lover suddenly tighten his grip, Laro looked down, seeming to feel how at a lost Kuja had become. "Hey, what's wrong. We don't have to do this, kitten. I was happy just sleeping next to you…"

"It's not that." Kuja shook his head, feeling stupid. "It's just-"

"Just what?" Rolling them on the bed until he could loom over Masa like the gentle giant he was, Laro kissed his forehead. "Tell me."

"I just realized. That a year from now, if I want - if _you_ want - I could wake up in the morning, and be just as happy as I will be tomorrow morning."

The soldier frowned as he deciphered the comment, and then frowned some more, trying to see what about the idea would make Masa unhappy. "Well, if the choice is up to me, I would hope you'd be happily waking up to me for a good many years."

He shrugged. "But how I've felt has hardly changed. You knew I was mad for you from the moment we met." Kissing his kitten on the forehead again, Laro sounded a little more worried when he went on. "Of course, you might change your mind. Find someone else."

"Don't be silly." Kuja replied absently. He reached up, catching Laro's face between his hands. "It's just that I have a hard time fathoming it. What I could have possibly done to deserve such a 'happy-ending' I can't help but think that this is some sort of mistake."

"Bit of a downer aren't you?" Far from being alarmed, Laro's smile shone whitely in the darkness. "You and Mikoto, I swear. The more I talk to her, the more I see the family resemblance."

"We inherited Garland's pessimism I guess." Kuja agreed and then shook his head in irritation. "God knows Zidane doesn't have it."

"There isn't a pessimistic bone in that boy's body." Laro agreed solemnly. "He's as cheerful as chick-a-dee, and is a morning person as well. There's something deeply wrong with that."

"There, you see? He fits the role. The happy hero always gets his 'ever after.' It's how the stories always go." Still cupping Laro's face, Masa sat up a little and kissed him gently. "Villians don't get happy endings, and so I'm worried."

"You're hardly a villain." The soldier kissed back, just as lightly. "Maybe once, but that was a different story, wasn't it."

"Here and now? _This_ story is _ours_." Pulling back, he considered the matter with a quizzical eyebrow raised. "And besides, if you look at it a slightly less egotistical way, aren't_ I_ supposed to be 'the hero' in this relationship? What about _my_ happy ending? I think that after all the bloody effort I've gone through in the last twenty years; I deserve to get some sort of reward."

Even with his blatantly teasing tone, the man had a definite point. Kuja blinked, turning the idea over in his head, testing the angles. If seen from Laro's perspective, everything really had worked out perfectly, or would shortly. He smiled as he came to terms with the idea that he was a necessary and natural prize at the end of someone else's epic journey. The worry that had twisted in his chest faded as quickly as it had come.

Laro seemed to realize he had stuck on something and played it up for all it was worth. "Isn't that how the plays always go? Good overcomes. He retires to his in a sky-castle. Has lots of sex with a biddable lady?"

"I am neither biddable, or a lady." Kuja pointed out archly.

Laro gave him a mournful look. "You're going to spoil my dream by arguing with me all the time for the next thirty years, aren't you."

"Castles in the sky are also pretty hard to come by, I've heard." He replied drolly.

"Have to stick with the original plan, I guess." The soldier sighed.

"And what was that, pray tell? I don't recall contributing to any 'plans'." Kuja nipped his nose.

"You, me, a small sailboat, and a relaxing sea voyage." The dark skinned man smiled. "How about I'll let you pick the destination, will that appease you?"

"It will do for now." Kuja grinned.

"And are you content with your 'ending'?"

"Modestly. Yes. Why?" The silver haired man blinked with perfect innocence. True to form his lover gave him a pathetic look.

Laro sighed plaintively, "Because you had proposed some exercise earlier, and I was wondering if you'd changed your mind."

"And miss my last opportunity to have some fun before Mikoto has me flat on my back again for the foreseeable future? Not for the world." Pulling his lover closer, Kuja all but purred.

One more chapter? Two? I have no idea anymore. Time to bag this rabbit.

--Lunar.


	32. I Will Never Let You Go

Feather Flight: I Will Never Let You Go… (part 32)

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

Note:

If the formatting doesn't work, try finding the version posted on my website

http/www.roodinverse. was strange, the memories that would pop into her head when she was diligently concentrating on something else. Focus was absolutely required, Mikoto knew as she began the less-than-pleasant task of operating on her two nearest relations. Zidane would be first, since he was the stronger, and possessed the necessary raw materials that she would need to harvest. Glancing to her left briefly she noted the other doctors fussing over Kuja. They had been kind enough to handle the setup and eventual cleanup for her so that she could devote all her attention to the primary task at hand. Fingers deftly selected a scalpel, and then felt along her brother's arm for an opportune location to start. If she pretended it wasn't him, then it wasn't quite so bad.

Given what she was doing, what they were all about to undertake, the sudden recollection of Brambala had no business intruding. The memory lingered as Mikoto carefully cut into her sedated patient, refusing to be completely dismissed.

It wasn't anything particularly clear. She couldn't recollect the exact day or what she had been doing, but for some reason the voices, the words, the raw feeling of the fight echoed in her thoughts as she worked. It had been Kuja and Garland, of course. The old man argued with his creation long and hard about the point to his existence, the point of all of their existence. At the time she hadn't understood what it was that Kuja had been so upset about. Years older and far more aware, she marveled at his foresight.

Of all of them even including Zidane, only their eldest brother had ever faced the world with his eyes wide open to the unpleasant truth of it. No wonder why he was so warped, no wonder that he had fought with such passion. No one else had ever been able to get a rise out of Garland the way Kuja had. None of the other genomes would have even known where to begin when faced with something as complex and intuitive as a screaming argument with someone. Mikoto smiled slightly at the bitter strength Kuja's knowledge had given him.

Always so different, Kuja, she still couldn't fathom the intricate ways that his mind turned. Mikoto found that she could appreciate her brother's unorthodox reasoning abilities far more now that she had an emotional basis of her own to compare with his. 'Prickly' was what many of Kuja's friends had playfully called him, she could see what they meant. Her sibling was contrast of supreme intelligence, assurance, and a deep need for sense of belonging, an almost visceral fear of being ostracized. Both were things that Mikoto could easily recognize in her own nature. Both, she pondered, were part of the legacy that Garland had left them. That probably meant that she was 'prickly' too.

Signaling Vivi that she was ready for his intervention, she stepped back to allow him room to cast his spells.

Laro waited until the conversation on the other side of the door had paused before knocking. The Dean didn't look surprised to see him, stepping back to beckon him into her office. Pushed into a chair and given a coffee before he could even say why he was there, he let her take the lead. "The treatment?"

"Ongoing." He replied grimly, not knowing, or wanting to know the details. His suite, the entire hospital seemed to be wrapped in the hushed-silence of intense concentration. Realizing he would either get away from the headache-inducing atmosphere or start drinking before noon, he had forced himself to leave.

"Kuja's too stubborn to die." The room's other occupant offered. The backhanded compliment was about as genuine as General Gerrick could ever be. Laro blinked stupidly at the man for a moment, amused that he hadn't noticed his presence before. The Dean had to have been talking to someone he had simply been too distracted to wonder who. "Good afternoon, General Nazer." The officer lifted his hand in a casual greeting.

"Hello." Laro automatically reached out to clasp hands. After a brief hesitation, his gesture was accepted, both of them smiling a little at the idea of being civilized to each other. Taking in the sight of the younger soldier, Laro had to concede to himself that 'adventuring' seemed to be good for the man. Sun-weathered from his explorations and relaxed from the lack of fighting, Gerrick's looked far less sour than he used to be. Or perhaps, Laro considered, he was simply more inclined to think kindly of the man now than he had in the beginning. "Good to see you, general," he added.

There was a secret pleasure in watching the younger man trying to puzzle out the hidden meaning. In the past they'd have been snapping at each other on sight.

"Distract me with something, Finlay, or I think I'll go mad." Laro turned back to his friend with a tired sigh.

Dean Finlay tapped the ash off of her cigar and gave him a grim smile. "A common feeling today, it seems. If you're willing to put old animosities aside, you might find that our young general here has brought home a remarkable story from his recent gallivanting. I wouldn't mind starting it over from the beginning…"

Offering his senior officer an unusually polite tilt of his chin, Gerrick acknowledged the request. "I would be honored to acquaint General Nazer with the details. Since he wasn't at court this morning he can't yet have heard the news?"

"Too many generals in this room." Laro smiled in amusement. "I'm retiring, if I haven't already. You can probably drop the formality. I'd be very interested in hearing what you've discovered. Where were you off to this time?"

"North and east, we followed the coast up past the city of Drisley out to the lands evacuated thirty years ago." Gerrick offered, slouching back in his chair. Deference was rapidly discarded, the young man obviously comfortable in the Dean's presence. "I don't know if you've ever been up that far, Nazer, or know the land, but the mountains fade back into grasslands and a sort of misty forest stretches over a hundred kilometers in every direction."

Laro nodded thoughtfully. "Ibat is up from around that area originally, isn't he? Cloud forest, he called it."

"Probably more poetic than it deserves," the general snorted. "But yes, the winds by the sea are quite foggy. Probably due to some warm current that follows the shore. Historical records said that if we followed what was left of the roads far enough, we would find the old port city of Watership."

"The Selwe bombardment laid waste to when I was a child." He agreed, dredging up old memories of the country's geography.

"Some people have gone back in the mean time, but it's still a pretty derelict place." Gerrick continued, "The ruins are beautiful. I can see why the books always talk about it as a city of sculptures. The damn things were everywhere, mostly toppled over or broken. I had to clear easily two dozen of them just to navigate the roads."

Finlay made an unpleasant face. "I hope you didn't demolish them." The young general simply rolled his eyes at the woman.

"Could it be rebuilt?" Laro asked, curious. The Dean had stood up at the start of Gerrick's narrative and prowled her shelves. She distracted them both from the general's answer when she 'hmphed' happily and yanked a particular volume off the shelf. Clearing a portion of her desk she opened the old atlas up and found the area under discussion. Interested in the unknown place, Laro leaned in to look as well, noting the probably-outdated map and an artist's rendering of the city on the facing page. "What's that bridge for?"

Gerrick smirked. "That's part of the reason why I was keen on going. There's something rather mysterious about a bridge that stretches off the edge of a map to nowhere." He pulled a paper out of his pocket and revealed that it was a rough copy of the book's map.

The difference was that this map had some amateur additions drawn on to it. This time the bridge was sketched in not as a continuous span, but as a series of pillars and zigzagging paths. It was also extended well past where the other map had ended, and ended at a roughly circular island.

"Some sort of shrine, perhaps?" Dean Finlay took up the map over the complaints of her audience. "What was on the island?"

"If I can tell my story?" Gerrick asked rhetorically, "As I was saying, the locals weren't terribly forthcoming. The best I could get them to explain is that there had been some holy place-or-other that the bridge lead to, but how big it was, or how far away, they wouldn't supply. So we took it on ourselves to investigate.

There's some weird quirk to the ocean around Watership, Nazer. You, being a sailor, might appreciate it. Apparently the floor of the sea is uncommonly shallow where the bridge has been laid out, almost like it was once a peninsula or the like. You can get several kilometers out into the ocean and still only have a few meters of water. Had any of us had any skill at boat making, we might have attempted to just row our way out and see where it got us, but we were a little uncertain of how long the trip would take, and so we chose to use what was left of the bridge."

"But the road-bed had collapsed." Laro pointed to the map that Gerrick had drawn. "Were enough pillars left standing that you could rig something?"

"Thankfully yes." The younger general rubbed his chin. "There was lumber aplenty from the town and surrounding forests, so we sort of built in stages, just a path, for now, until someone has the time or energy to do some more serious repairs. The bridge is still intact in places, which was good since I ended up staging half my men out in the middle for a few weeks while we gathered more supplies. Things got slowed up somewhat by the fogs and storms that cropped up damn near every day. All totaled it took three months of construction to connect all the broken segments back into some workable whole. By the time we were done my surveyors guessed that we were close to seven kilometers from shore."

"And the island?" Finlay prompted.

Laro almost scolded her. Soldier that he was he shared Gerrick's interest in the engineering feat of traversing the broken bridges. "I hope you had a copyist with you, I should have liked to have seen the finished structure."

"I took the liberty of claiming your old one when I left on this jaunt." Gerrick grinned. "Not like you were using him for anything, and the man was positively giddy at the chance to sketch the north country. Sadly the court has abducted him and his folio for the present, so if you want to see it you'll likely have to go to the king."

Making a face, Laro gestured that they might as well continue the story without. "I'll wait a few days for the fervor to settle down."

"Indeed." The young general agreed. "I have to face them after dinner with a more florid version of what I'm telling you now. I though I'd tell it my way at least once before having to dress it up for the nobles."

"They won't be half so interested in the bridge. I can assure you." Dean Finlay chuckled.

"So then there was the island." Gerrick looked dour. "At first we weren't sure how big it was. I mean it seemed small from a distance, but we wondered if it was the tip of some larger landmass. It took a few days for us to find a high enough vantage point to determine that it was only a few kilometers across."

"More of an atoll than an island, at that size." Laro murmured.

"If that's a fancy way of saying 'the top of a sunken mountain' then yes. That's pretty much what you've got."

Gerrick grinned and pointed to his makeshift map. "The entire island is pretty vertical, as far as we can tell the only level bit of land on the whole thing was the place where the bridge connected. Just enough room for a sort of hostel house, and some few other buildings, and then there were these rock walls that went up like the walls of some castle. There was a bit of a road, path, staircase, call it what you will, that went from the buildings up into the mountain. When we followed it we found out that it was the damnedest thing. The place is hollow in the middle! Like some sort of really deep crater. The copyist speculated that the whole island may once have been the very tip of a giant volcano and that we were walking into its mouth."

"There's a pleasant thought." The Dean was back at her desk, elbows propped on the surface as she listened. "Any signs of activity?"

"No. Quite the opposite really. There were some trees growing in the center of the island that had to be hundreds of years old. Enormous old things decorated with hanging chimes and whatnots, moss, the works. But that's not the crazy part." Gerrick leaned forwards, hinting at revelations. "Smack in the middle of this little wilderness is the biggest damn piece of quartz I've ever seen! Over thirty meters long, sticking out of the ground like some sort of giant signpost. It looked like an enormous leaded crystal memorial from a glass works. You'll have to see Jeo's sketches to believe it. You just turned a corner, and bam, there it was! No wonder the locals were superstitious, I have to admit it made the hair on the back of my head stand up."

"A crystal that big can't be natural." Laro mused. "Wouldn't it shatter with normal weathering?"

"Maybe the walls of the volcano deflect a lot of it." Finlay shrugged. "Would you say it was part of the Selwe invasion?"

Gerrick shook his head. "It was too well placed for that. There was a patio built in around the thing, benches. All if it was worn down; not like a recent addition. The whole island looked like it had been in the business of being a shrine for a damn long time. Besides, the bugs have never been eager to venture out to sea, and the island is too small to get to it any other way."

"I wonder why none of the survivors wanted to talk about it." Standing to stretch his legs, Laro looked at the crude map once again. He'd tell Masa about it when he recovered enough. No doubt his kitten would find the idea of the island charming. "You'd think there'd be someone living out there if they had gone through the effort of building the bridge and the settlement. Someone must have survived the evacuation."

"Who's to say?" Gerrick shrugged. "I just find these things; I don't pretend to understand them. We also brought back some surveys of further north, where the grand glacier begins, but that's only interesting to the geologists. Most people are more into the mysterious island bit."

"I foresee a new influx of funding for the reconstruction of Watership." The Dean mused cynically as she took a puff off her cigar. "I'll advise the king to station a small group out on the bridge maybe. Make sure that our historic treasure isn't broken down into small souvenirs by an enterprising businessman or two."

"It was tricky business just getting out to the island, what with the bridge and fog." Gerrick shrugged. "I wouldn't be too worried about a mob descending on the place."

"What else did you see?" Laro couldn't help but ask. Staring through the atlas he re-familiarized himself with the countries and cities that used to exist along the coast. Some of them he remembered hearing about as his child. His long since vanished village was nothing more than a small 'x' along the coast. In all probability, the surf and the sands would have consumed what little was left a long time ago, but the name remained. he wondered if anyone would ever want to try again in the remote little location.

After spending all day consciously avoiding returning to the hospital Laro found that trying to not worry about how Mikoto and her brothers were progressing was actually more stressful than just pacing the hall outside her surgery. His brain refused to cooperatively be distracted for more than a few moments at a time. Even speculating on vast treasures left forgotten from before the war couldn't completely set him at ease. Every few moments he would find himself wondering how Masa fared, and when it might be safe to investigate the outcome. He grimly wondered if someone from the hospital would even think to send him word when the procedure was done with. When dinner had passed, and still no message had found him, he set off to discover for himself what the news was.

Long shadows filled the back courtyard. Random stewards were at work lighting lanterns along the walkways and stairs. Laro picked his way through the customary bustle of the lower hospital floors and up through the wards to where Kuja had been making his home for the past few months. Instinctively he glanced around for any sign of the Selwe. Usually there was a bug or two lurking around somewhere nearby. They seemed content to watch as Masa's recovery proceeded. Probably updating their queen at each step of the way as to when their surrender could finally take place with all due ceremony. Knowing his lover was on fairly amicable terms with the creatures didn't change the fact that being taken by surprise by one could still make his hair stand up. If anything, the corridor and sitting rooms were desolate, no bugs, no pages cooling their heels nobody but the occasional busy-looking doctor fluttering along. He whimsically checked the room that Mikoto and Zidane had claimed as their own, but it was as empty as expected.

His own suite was equally uninhabited, although he could see that someone has swept through the place with an eye towards prepping the bed for the return of an invalid. Extra pillows and fresh linens had been set up. The quilts were folded back awaiting the patient of the hour. Laro tried convincing himself that he could wait a little longer, but found as soon as he sat down that his legs were adamant about moving. Resigned to getting underfoot, he headed back out. Down the hallway further still was where Mikoto had positioned her cobbled-together equipment. Sure enough, the door was guarded by a rather taciturn looking orderly. Knowing that wheedling wouldn't work, Laro attempted for professional curiosity.

"News?"

"Nearly done now, sir. I heard the doctors saying that she was finish with Mr. Zidane and that he could be healed up and taken back to his room. They'll probably be wheeling him out any minute."

"And the procedure?" He hated to ask.

"Seems to have gone nice and quietly, at any rate, sir." Came the unhelpful reply.

Resolving not to force his way in and act the part of paranoid-lover, Laro squared his shoulders and made a show of relaxing across the hall from the orderly, somehow finding it in him to make small talk with the man about random goings on in the city. After a painfully long discussion about the potential for the year's harvest, they were interrupted by the door opening. Ing and his fellow doctor were slowly maneuvering a narrow bed out of it.

"Sleeping like a baby." The doctor murmured, amused by Laro's attempts to surreptitiously investigate the patient while helping them move him down the hall. "Although if Mikoto's predictions are right, he may be crying like a baby, once the painkillers wear off and he wakes up."

"That bad?" He grimaced at the thought.

"She's got a remarkably steady hand. But still that was seven incisions, and seven, for the lack of a better word, broken bones. The young man will doubtless notice, when he comes around." The other surgeon nodded sagely. "Still, with the aid of magic, he will be on his feet almost as fast as you were, Great Kai, as will our Mr. Kuja."

"Doesn't sound like much fun until then." He agreed grimly. Zidane looked rather pale, sedated or not. With the blanket over most of him it was impossible to count the bandages. He wasn't sure he wanted to. "Things went alright then? Nothing unexpected?"

"Nothing at all." Ing replied, nodding that if he wanted to be really useful then he could hold open the door. "Calm and steady, she knows her craft. It's a pity she didn't find the larger surgery hall to her liking. I would have loved to have had some of the old windbags watch her work. It would be the end of the foolish arguments they pose about female surgeons."

"I have a hunch Mikoto would floor a lot of people who make assumptions about women." Laro chuckled. "She's practically the mayor of her village back home too, their equivalent to our Dean, I guess."

"How she finds enough hours in the day is a mystery to me." Ing shook his head. With a practiced move, the two doctors quickly transferred their patient from the rolling cot to his bed and tucked him in. The little surgeon gave him a speculative look. "If you wouldn't mind sitting with him for a minute while we go back and collect a few things?"

"Is there anything I should watch for?" He asked gamely as he sat on Mikoto's bed to observe Zidane.

"Just shout if he moves or seems distressed. We'll hear you." Pushing the vacant cot out the door again, the doctors made their escape. "We'll send a nurse in to take over for you in just as soon as we find one."

Left with just a sleeping genome for company, Laro sighed. "Well, here's hoping your brother comes through this as quietly as you seem to have. Although had I known the pair of you would be volunteering for broken bones, I might have encouraged you to reconsider. The sleeping man's eyebrow seemed to twitch in agreement, but as Zidane's breathing never changed, it seemed to be simply a fluke. Whatever Masa's blond almost-twin of a brother was dreaming about, it probably was more amusing than the reality of being stuck in bed after surgery. Laro left him to it.

"I was told I would find you here." Mikoto came into the room close on the heels of a friendly looking nurse. Laro stood out of polite habit, and realizing that the little bedroom really didn't have the capacity for her, the nurse, her brother, and him as well, moved to evacuate himself to the hall. The woman looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes implying that the all day procedure hadn't been a relaxed affair. She was drying her hands on a small towel, clearly having come direct from her surgery. He couldn't help but check her for any signs of worry or fear, but she was as calm and composed as ever.

Leaning against the door frame, she let him slip past her and gazed in at her brother a moment, seeming to reach a prognosis without having to prod at him first. "He'll sleep the night through, probably. Wake in the morning about as happy as a cat that's fallen off a roof beam."

"But he'll be fine, right?"

"Who Zidane?" She chuckled slightly. "It would take far more than a few mending bones to keep him down. No the trick will be to keep him in bed until we get a chance to mend things properly, that and put up with his constant complaining. With luck I'll sleep through the first half of it."

"And Masa?" He was surprised when she pushed away from the door to lead him back down the hall towards his rooms. She leaned her shoulder against the new door as she opened it, and nodded that he was allowed in as well.

"So far so good." Mikoto stood next to the big bed where Kuja had been tucked in. He speculated that the doctors must have knowingly left him to babysit Zidane while they transferred their second patient. The old men were clever like that. Almost lost among all the quilts, Masa looked just as pale as his brother, even worse, given his natural coloring wasn't as strong. Finding a bit of space on the edge of the bed, Laro sat down next to him. Pushing some of his hair off his forehead, he worried at the faint but pained expression on the man's face.

"Blood loss was within expected parameters, but I did have to walk your healers through tinkering with his immune system, at least temporarily, until Zidane's cells bind and blend properly with his own." She sighed. "Normally there would be long term concerns regarding transplants, but because they are for all intents and purposes the same person, physically, I have every hope that the transition will happen smoothly."

"Do you have any worries?"

"Only the usual." She elucidated when she noted his curious look. "Infections, overexertion, the usual. He'll be rather fragile for a while. More so than Zidane. His bones are functionally hollow, the marrow will have to grow in. Until it does they won't be able to set and heal properly. Naturally we can hasten the process somewhat, but even so, it'll take a little time."

"So you're saying I shouldn't squeeze him too hard in the meantime." Laro tried to joke. She gave him a smile for the effort.

"Something like that."

"Is it safe to sleep here? Or should I go find a temporary bed in the castle for the next few days?" Silently he willed her to let him stay.

Mikoto rubbed her neck. "I would surmise that he would sleep better, and be more agreeable to resting tomorrow, if you were here to keep him company. But under no condition is there to be exertion of any kind." She gave him a candid look.

Laro winced.

"I know my brother, at least that well, Mr. Nazer. I will therefore have to ask that you be the sensible one in this regard? It is not in his best interest that he do anything to upset the adoption of his transplants. He should be reminded of this if he gets any ideas before I can come and check on him again."

"I promise we'll behave."

"I trust that you will, at any rate." Looking down at her sleeping brother once more, she humphed softly to herself and moved towards the door. "I'll have them station a nurse in your sitting room, should anything arise. I'll be sleeping, probably for the next fourteen hours, but feel free to rouse me if necessary."

"Thank you, Mikoto."

"Thank me if it works." Shutting the door behind her, she left in search of her bed.

It was early yet, but Laro couldn't fault her the idea. The stress of the day had exhausted him as well, and he hadn't worked nearly a fraction as hard as she had. Exchanging his clothes for his sleep shirt, he carefully slipped into bed next to Masa, not wanting to jar the mattress. He wasn't brave enough to try and hold the man, uncertain exactly where the various bandages lay, but he settled as close as he could, hoping that body heat might be of some assistance to his sleeping lover. Kuja's chest moved with calming regularity, his breathing sure and steady despite his poor color. For a long time Laro simply watched the silver haired man, comforted by the knowledge that conscious or not, he had come this far. And when he finally slept, it was with dreams of the fog-bound ocean with tall stone columns rising from the water on all sides. He leaned against the side of his small sailboat and stared in awe as Masa did likewise from where he sat at the tiller.

Kuja sat bolstered by an assortment of pillows and watched as Mikoto prowled his small selection of books. Ostensibly keeping him company because Laro had been called off to a meeting and Zidane's grousing was driving her to contemplate murder. He knew she was also trying to gauge his recovery. The attempt at subtly did her credit. He had fully been expecting her to manhandle him as soon as she walked into the room to check her handiwork, but instead she had asked politely before investigating one of the many incision points, and made quick work of the actual prognosis before wandering off to investigate his few worldly possessions.

She stopped and stared in front of the small display table that held his mechanical canary. As awed by the sight of the enameled music box as he had been when he first saw it, she ran a cautions finger along its wing. He watched her contemplating the little device, tail twitching, before giving in to a generous impulse. "The key to wind the toy is on the other side. Four or five turns ought to be sufficient."

"Hmm?" Mikoto looked over at him, half guilty to be caught studying his possessions. Lifting an aching arm he waived weakly at the bird to encourage her.

"I've grown rather fond of the tune. Wind it for me?"

"I've never seen a music box like this." She mused aloud as she complied with the request, gently handling the toy as she wound the spring, and then setting it back on the table. As soon as the gears engaged it clicked its brass beak and flipped its yellow wings as it resumed the song from where it left off before. Kuja found that it was rather amusing to see his normally strict sister charmed by such a simple conceit as a mechanical bird.

"Rather clever, isn't it."

"Yes." Picking up a book at random, she crossed back to the bed. "Would you like me to read to you a while? It would be difficult for you to hold the book up yourself."

"That one is a set of plays." He leaned his head back against the pillow. "You'd find them challenging to read aloud, I think."

Opening the book up, she flipped through it, surprised. "How did you know it was a book of plays?"

"Almost all of them are plays." He laughed softly. "I've made something of a hobby of collecting them. There aren't many performances held anymore, understandable with the war and all, so I've been forced to read them and use my imagination."

"Zidane has taken me to see plays in Lindblum, sometimes." Mikoto mused as she continued to flip through the book.

Kuja tilted his head until he could look at her again. "And did you like them?"

"They were… interesting." She replied, then looked up and shrugged slightly. "I confess I understood very little of what was going on. It seemed that everyone was very emotional all the time."

"Plays are often dramatic, yes."

Tapping her chin, Mikoto looked up as she remembered. "There was one where Zidane's mentor, Baku, pretended to be and old king with three daughters. Two of them weren't very nice, and their husbands wanted to take over once the old man was dead. One daughter was kind, but made to look like she was betraying her father, and was sent far away to marry a man from a different kingdom. Then a war broke out between the other two sisters and their father, and in the end, it was the third sister who came home to rescue him. It was very confusing."

"I know that play." Kuja smiled. "Love and betrayal, power lust and loyalty, all the good stories all tied up in one. I can't blame you for being confused. It's not exactly a play for novice audiences."

"I think Zidane realized that too." Mikoto smiled faintly. "The next one he took me to involved a girl who used magic to defeat her wicked step-mother and go to a party with a prince. Apparently he still loved her even after finding out she was really quite poor and they married. The step-mother was punished for being cruel."

"And they lived happily-ever-after."

"Except for the step-mother." Mikoto agreed.

"Yes, well in those sorts of stories, the step-mother usually has it coming to her." Kuja shook his head. "They have plays like that here as well."

"So which is your favorite in this book?" His sister found the index. "What about 'The Chosen Lamb?' What is that one about?"

"Political commentary. A little dry, and requires a lot of explanation." He wriggled deeper into his quilts. "One of the last two in the volume ought to be 'A Promise for Henrietta', you might like that one."

Mikoto frowned and found the page. "Where is Mr. Nazer this morning?"

"Got dragged off to a council session." Kuja shrugged. "You do know how to read a play aloud, right?"

"I know how to read." His sister stared at him blankly. "Kindly don't mistake me for Zidane."

"But… Never mind. Just start at the beginning. I'm curious to see how you manage." He had a pretty good idea of what he might expect, and Mikoto did not disappoint.

At first he tried to interpret her lack of inflection as artistic. When that failed, he tried to determine whether she simply didn't grasp the farcical nature of the scene. By the tenth page, read at her methodical and most certainly speedy clip, he could feel every hair on his tail standing on end from the exquisite torture that was Mikoto's lack of emotive ability, "Stop, for the love of god stop!"

"Is there something wrong?"

Kuja tried and failed to keep from grinding his teeth. "Mikoto. Tell me in your own words, what was going on in the last few pages?"

She looked down at the little book, perplexed. "Well, there is a girl, and the boy who wishes to court her is too shy to come out and say how he feels, so he disguises himself as a maid and tricks her into hiring him. But the footman caught him stuffing his shirt on the first day… We haven't gotten very far."

"More than far enough." He sighed. "Look. Normally when one reads a play, one attempts to, I don't know, get into the scene? Make it come alive for the listener?"

"How do you mean?" Mikoto gave him a curious look. "Like acting?"

"Yes." Glad to see she was marginally keeping up with him he nodded empathetically and regretted it as a dozen muscles complained. "Exactly."

"I can't act."

"I can see that." He braved further twinges to shift over slightly on the mattress. The bed was just the right size for himself and Laro. With only him and his sister they were positively swimming in it. "Come up here so I can read with you. Clearly Zidane hasn't furthered your education in what really matters."

Mikoto gingerly moved to comply. Sitting next to him on the quilts and slowly accustoming herself to lounging back against the pillows she huffed in annoyance. Side by side they were really almost the same height. Kuja found the reminder of their physical similarities amusing as he leaned against her shoulder to better read the play. "Now go back to the first page and I'll take the part of Ben, you can be his friend advising him to be more forthright. That part ought to suit you."

Clearing his throat he began. "_Dearest friend!_ _How lucky I am to find you! And how lucky the day!"_ He nudged his sister's shoulder playfully in pretended greeting. "_Don't you think it thus? Look at the blue of the sky, list to the fine breeze and the clever birds. Today is a day made for lovers. It must be so._"

"_Sweet Ben am I to understand that you love? Oh peril I shall fetch the bandages."_ She was earnest about her attempt, he gave her that much. She was as emotionless as a toadstool, but very energetic about it. At least taking turns with him forced her to slow down.

"He's definitely being sarcastic there. Or at least cynical." Kuja critiqued. "Here, listen. '_Sweet Ben._ _Am I to understand that you _love? _Oh Peril! I shall fetch _the bandages_.'_ There, can you see the difference? Pretend that you're scolding Zidane. That ought to put you in the right frame of mind. Then I say,'_Fie_ _fie sir, I know you of old! For you are the enemy of love and sweetness!_'"

"_For love and sweetness I have of animosity not a crumb. They are the winds and rains of the tempest that liven up our daily lives and bring adventure to our hearts. Nay Ben it is the wreckage that they leave behind that provokes my vinegar, for as sure as you fly with love today, tomorrow will I find you sullen and crashed back to earth_." Mikoto forged through her lines like a ship turned into the wind.

He couldn't help but ham up the already ridiculous lines, trying to goad her. "_Not _this _time, my William! My heart _floats! _It _catapults! _It is _beyond the sky_. There is no crashing from such an august height!_"

"_No crashing save that which renders the crasher into a burning wreck. Fly closer to the ground, dear Ben. Then I may chase after you with dustbin and broom_." Mikoto pinched her nose. "I don't understand why they must use so many words."

"They have to dress it up a bit. It's what the audience is paying for." Kuja snorted. "It's also a bit more poetic than saying, 'Oh stop your useless prating about being in love you're just going to wake up drunk and depressed and I'll be obliged to hold your hair back as you puke in the lavatory.' If you see what I mean."

She blinked. "Is that really what William is saying?"

"A little less vulgarly, but that's the gist." Propping his chin on her shoulder as he read ahead, he sighed. "He's the voice of reason in this story, which is why Ben is obliged to ignore him for the first three acts. It's only later that he sees that it is better to be less fanciful, and more forthright if he wants to woo the girl rather than just dream about her. William cares for him a great deal, I think. He's just tired of seeing his friend set himself up with unreasonable plots and aspirations just to get hurt again."

"How confusing."

Kuja shrugged. "That's life, I guess; running off to do something stupid as your emotions get the best of you while all your friends tell you to see reason. Then apologizing to said-friends after they stand by you through the mess you've caused and help to set it right."

"I wish I could feel something so strongly as that." Mikoto murmured.

"I see people sometimes, the other genomes, able to laugh themselves to tears, or get truly furious, or even be in love." She sighed. "And I can appreciate it, but I don't think I'll ever be able to participate."

Sitting back, Kuja digested the comment for a moment before frowning. "Surely you have felt emotions. You _seem_ more emotional. Hell, you'd have to be an automaton, or a saint to be able to put up with Zidane for more than a few hours without being amused, frustrated, annoyed, or exhausted." Blinking, he reconsidered. "Or all of the above."

Mikoto smiled faintly. "I have felt these things."

"Then I don't think you have anything to worry about." He patted her on the back weakly. "You just need practice, is all."

"You once called me frigid." His sister frowned down at the page, refusing to let the matter go. "I didn't understand what you meant at the time. Not until recently, in fact, did I have someone explain the concept. For the longest time I was confused. How could a genome, naturally exothermic, be frozen? I thought you had misspoke. Foolish of me, I know."

"Doubtless that was a long time ago." Kuja shook his head. Frigid had probably been one of the nicer names he had called her during his visits to Brambala. "We've both changed considerably since then."

"Do you love Laro?" She looked at him curiously. "Truly? Like in all the stories Zidane tells about romance? Do you love him more than anyone else? Do you fantasize about being intimate with him often? Is it truly possible to be so carried away with the fantasy of intimacy as to actually derive physical satisfaction from it?"

It was a good thing, Kuja decided, that he was a creature with a somewhat worldly nature. He forced his expression into something a little more elegant than absolute shock and took a breath for good measure. "I take it you haven't asked Zidane these questions."

Mikoto waved him off perfunctorily. "No. He would only laugh at me and say 'Of course. Don't you?' Which I would find supremely annoying." Suddenly looking far less assured she bit her lip and gave him a sideways glance. "Do you think they are strange questions too? I have often wondered, if perhaps you might have understood, been able to explain. Maybe I am the only one deficient, I wanted to ask you for so long…"

"Pity then, that I was dead." He couldn't help bur smirk at his own jest. The peculiar nature of her predicament wasn't lost on him. In her way, she was just as at a loss as the Black Mages had been. The science of life was one she knew as well as he did. But the process of actually living, and enjoying it, was clearly something that was counterintuitive.

"Did you ever feel the same?" Mikoto twisted her fingers in the blanket. "Did emotions ever scare you?"

"My first emotion was fear." Kuja leaned back against the pillows and studied the ceiling, remembering recent dreams. "For a while I think it was the only emotion I understood."

"I was afraid of everything. Of Garland, of Gaia, of what you and the other genomes would do when you found out I had started feeling things. Fear lead to distrust and anger, next thing I knew I had learned cynicism and frustration." He smiled grimly. "All the darker emotions came easily to me."

Catching his tail as it thumped against the sheets, he smoothed his fur down a little as he organized his thoughts. Mikoto, ever unflappable, watched him without judgment. He was somewhat thankful for that. She was easier to talk to in that sense than Zidane was, despite her other annoying quirks. Kuja offered her an ironic little smile. "Honestly I think my only saving graces were curiosity, and aestheticism. Once I was able to get out from under Garland's oppressive presence I stopped and looked around and realized that there were many beautiful things in the world, and that I wanted them, wanted to experience them at least a little. Only then did anything akin to pleasure fall into my vocabulary."

"And yet you mastered your emotions so quickly."

"Quickly you say? I only figured out altruism a few months ago. Don't talk to me about 'quickly'. It may be that I'll go my whole life, and still be confused at times by people who were born to such things. The fact that you've managed to discover 'mildly amused' in only two years ought to have me writhing in jealously."

"Even the other genomes are becoming better at emotions than I am." Mikoto sighed, crossing her arms under her breasts. "A few have formed partialities for each other. They talk of being 'couples', of desire. They came to me asking questions about intercourse, not many months after we settled on Gaia. How it was done, why it was so enjoyable. It strikes me as rather ironic. That I was explaining the mechanics of something to people when the motivations are still a mystery."

Kuja couldn't help but snort with laughter, imagining his normally dour sister trying to give a lecture about reproduction to a pair of innocents. "I don't envy you that. Did they figure it out?"

"Apparently so." His sibling shrugged. "I didn't have the courage to ask them how it went. But they have since proved procreation among genomes is possible."

It was impossible to not laugh. Her disgruntled expression said it all. Mikoto continued to glare at him until the last of his mirth subsided. "I'm sorry, but it really is funny. I take it you were there to assist with the second generation?"

"It wasn't amusing from my point of view." She sighed. "Assisting with birthing was… an interesting experience. For all the pain and fuss it seems to entail, it doesn't dissuade others in the slightest. I watch Zidane and it seems that a woman only has to look his way, and the impulse is there. Is the compulsion to mate truly that strong?"

Thinking of how little it took to get himself in the mood, Kuja had to nod. "It can be. Although I'm told that men are notoriously worse about it than women. Not that ladies can't enjoy the act itself, but tradition states that they are a mite bit more sensible about when and where they are inspired to do something about their impulses."

"I have never felt anything like that." Tucking her short hair behind her ears, she sighed. "Maybe Garland made me this way, so that I wouldn't be distracted from my work. I don't suppose it matters. But it's strange to feel left out."

"You look at men and are dispassionate?" Kuja mused. "You can recognize a handsome one from an ugly one, surely."

"Of course." Mikoto sniffed. "I'm not blind."

"And you have a preference for a certain sort of man? Tall or short? Dark or fair? Are you the type to find muscles interesting? I can't see that." It was strangely engrossing, trying to imagine a man who would suit Mikoto's tastes. "Somehow I picture you going for the quiet and bookish type."

"I like Vivi? He is very patient and kind. But I do not find him desirable, so I guess that isn't what you are asking." She struggled to put her wants into words. "I don't want someone who looms over me, so short would be best. Dark hair is more interesting. I don't know whether muscles mean much to me one way or another. But shouldn't there be something more than just simple appreciation for someone's appearance?"

"There is a certain visceral aspect to it as well." Kuja conceded. Looking over at her, and then at the door. He debated with himself about giving out unsound advice. "There is one thing you might try. I found it worked well for me, but in all fairness, I might be the exception rather than the rule. You would have to decide for your self whether it holds merit for you."

"What?" Mikoto gave him her full attention. "I'll try anything, within reason."

"Yes well just do me a favor and don't tell Zidane that I encouraged you with this. I have a feeling he'll have some rather chauvinistic opinions on the matter."

"His opinions are often inexplicable." She sniffed again. "I would be interested in your recommendation."

"Take a lover, Mikoto." He suggested. "Pick him -or 'her' for that matter- with care. You'll want one with a fair amount of experience, and stamina."

His sister blinked at him, uncomprehendingly.

Kuja shrugged. "A lover committed to taking, and giving, pleasure might help you break through a lot of the conditioning we went through in Brambala. I found myself far more receptive, emotionally, physically, after my initial experiences. Extreme distress seems to work as well, but I would by far recommend pleasure. Anything to sort of shock your body awake, if you want to think of it like that. Maybe it is a hormonal thing, I couldn't say, but it was quite effective."

"So even if I do not have this 'visceral' emotion initially… Taking a lover might awaken such a thing?"

"In theory, yes. You might ask one of your 'couples' for their opinion. See if they are more emotionally aware now than before, or at least more aware than their non-intimate peers."

"That makes sense." Laying back next to him on the pillows, Mikoto clearly was breaking his suggestion down into biological cause-and-effect. He could practically hear the gears turning in her brain. She glanced sideways at him, clearly finding a difficulty in her computations. "Only I have no idea how to go about finding a lover… is it difficult?"

He covered his eyes with his hand and tried to suppress another burst of laughter. "Go into downtown Lindblum. Declare yourself a virgin wanting to be deflowered. Ask for the lustiest man around available for the job. You'll have half the city, including the Regent, lining up to audition."

"Don't tease."

"She thinks I'm teasing?" Kuja asked the ceiling rhetorically. "Ah well, there are professionals you might seek out, of course. Or you could ask for the assistance of someone knowledgeable, preferably someone who wouldn't report right to Zidane."

"I have no interest in soliciting one of the thieves."

"Good, they probably have fleas." He smirked. "Who else do you know?"

"The Regent, Beatrix, the traveling treasure hunters and merchants from Trueno and Lindblum that come to the village…"

"Beatrix?" Kuja laughed again. "Laro told me that not only was she still alive, she had married Steiner, of all people."

"They seem quite content." Mikoto remarked. "He would not have been my first choice in a lover, but perhaps she likes tall men."

"Tall, rusty ones." Kuja mused to himself. "Honestly, you could do worse than see what King-the-auctioneer was up to these days. For all that he was hopelessly self-obsessed, vain, and fad-driven, he never disappointing as a lover."

"Was he the one you chose?"

"God that was a long time ago." He closed his eyes at the strange memories. His life on Gaia seemed almost like it belonged to someone else. He could remember Trueno, the watery dark spaces, the stone courtyards and candle lit parties, but it all had a dream like blur over it. Even King's face, once as familiar as his own, was hard to bring into focus. "He wouldn't be put off by a blunt request, at any rate. Probably find you a partner and make you a rich woman doing it."

"That's right. I heard that once. How men are willing to pay to have a chance with a woman. Isn't that supposed to be somewhat scandalous?"

Kuja shrugged. "Only if you're the sort to be scandalized."

"I shall take this under advisement." Mikoto seemed done with the idea, much to Kuja's relief. He hadn't exactly expected to be counseling morally confused Black Mages or sexually curious siblings at this point in his life. To be fair, he had expected to be _dead_ by this point in his life, so really there was no point expecting anything anymore. Each day was a novelty waiting to happen.

"Well that's something." He grinned. "All I need now is Zidane coming to me for advice on parenting, and I will have truly exhausted my supply of inexhaustible wisdom."

"A very frightening prospect. He is practically still a child himself. I don't know if I would trust an infant to his care." His sister reopened the book of plays to where they had left off. "Read me some more?"

"By myself? You're not going to help?"

"I like it your way better." She shrugged.

Kuja shifted until he could read over her shoulder again. "Too bad. I'm not reading _all_ the parts, I'll go hoarse. You get to play William, the house keeper, and Henrietta. I'll be Ben, the footman, the father, and the assorted chorus."

When Zidane, fed up with complaining to his nurse, limped his way into Kuja's room his eyebrows rapidly disappeared into his hairline at the sight of them. Kuja looked silent askance at his golden sibling as Mikoto plowed through yet another passage. Henrietta's dialog was supposed to be light hearted and witty. Under his sister's less than expert readings, the character's persona became almost frightening. Kuja pitied the man who would try and woo her, and then realized he was playing part of that character.

"Get over here and help me." He hissed at his newly arrived relative.

Staggering across the short distance from door to bed Zidane eased down on the edge of the quilt with a pained groan. Gingerly stretching his legs he stared at their sister in quiet horror as she read aloud.

"Good god, Mikoto. You are murdering that prose." He waited for her to take a breath before daring to critique.

"I told him I wasn't any good at this." She winced and set the play down. "He wouldn't listen."

"You're a bloody masochist." Zidane switched to scolding Kuja instead. "What are you thinking, making her try to act?"

"I'm trying to encourage and nurture her emotional intelligence." He replied dryly. "Really I'd thought you'd have made more progress with her by now."

"She's been doing alright." Frowning, his sibling shifted until he could stiffly cross his legs on the mattress. "I didn't see any need to push her into things. Besides, I've been a little busy, you know, fixing everything you smashed up."

"Apparently so. Still, one would thing that you, a trained actor, might have at least taught her the difference between lab notes and a comedic love story."

"It was on my things-to-do list." Zidane groused. "Speaking of things to do, my bones are sore as hell, you quack-doctor." He shook a finger weakly at his sister. "Either give me some medicine or hit me over the head with a flowerpot or something before you continue this exercise in futility?"

Mikoto slipped off the bed with what might have been a sigh of frustration, or perhaps relief. Kuja smirked as she rummaged through the table of tonics nearby. Zidane snatched up the book where she dropped it and flipped back to the beginning, speed reading.

"I've never heard of this play."

"We're not exactly on Gaia anymore." Kuja pointed out the obvious.

"No need to be patronizing." Working quickly through the first act, Zidane grinned. "It's not bad though. This playwright do anything else like this?"

"Ironically no, his usual fare is much bleaker. The suffering inherent in life and all that. Interesting reading, but not very relaxing."

"Don't suppose I could take a copy home with me?" His brother had already abandoned Henrietta's plight in favor of skimming one of the other dramas at the front of the book.

Kuja smirked. "People will wonder at the sudden appearance of eight new high-quality productions back-to-back… And besides some of the events and places referenced would make no sense."

"Bah, a story is a story. We'll just change some of the names and stuff." Reluctantly passing the book back, Zidane inched closer to the head of the bed. "I'll just say that they're previously unknown works by Ibsen or something. It's not like I was going to say that I wrote them or anything."

Seeming to suddenly realize the potential for mayhem, he frowned. "The playwright is dead isn't he? I don't think interplanetary royalties per performance is going to work too well."

"You're in luck." Kuja shook his head. "The man in question lived about a hundred years ago. You can ask any of the booksellers outside the castle and obtain a copy for cheap, I'm sure."

"Marvelous." Zidane happily accepted the cup of weird colored tonic that Mikoto presented. Downing it in one quaff his pained expression gave Kuja ample warning for when his own dose was provided. Mikoto simply glared at them both as they winced and coughed their way through the aftertaste.

"It's not that bad." She stated in unforgiving tones.

"Doctor Ing must have provided the ingredients." Kuja sighed wearily. "The man has a fixation with adding sea kelp to things."

"Was that what I was tasting? I thought it was soap." Zidane was still making faces over the flavor.

"Kelp has many beneficial minerals in it. Good for bones." Their sister rebutted. "And it helps to kill the taste of the laudanum. Which in my mind makes it the lesser of the two evils."

"I'd prefer the laudanum." Zidane teased and then flopped sideways, fitting along the fraction of the bed still available. After Mikoto resettled herself to his left, Kuja found he was sandwiched between his newly rediscovered relatives. He sighed and inched closer to the center of the bed to give his brother more room.

"You might as well make yourself at home then." Finding his place in the play, he silently acknowledged that while foul-tasting, the potion did the trick to steady his tired muscles and smooth over the worst of the aches. As an apology to his sister he decided a small rearrangement of parts was in order. "Make yourself useful, Zidane. You can take a few rolls from us to even out the dialogs."

"Ooh, who do I get to be?" Suddenly interested, the blond sat up a little and shifted until he could read the pages.

"You'll be the cook, the second parlor maid, and Henrietta. Mikoto will keep the part of the butler, William, Ben's father, and when we get to it, the ghost."

For a moment his brother looked pleased, and then understood what he had been assigned. "Wait a second, you're giving me all the girl parts!"

"I'm giving you all the parts that require true dramatic range." Kuja replied blandly.

"But but, who gets to be Ben? I'm much better at the heroic parts. Why don't I be Ben and someone else can be Henrietta."

"Tough. I got here first. So I get to be the hero." Kuja smirked as he wiggled deeper under his blankets. It was funny to watch Zidane bite down on the expected 'but it's your room!' and resign himself to the rolls as assigned. He couldn't help but egg the man on. "Do you need any props to help you get into the part? A frock perhaps?"

"Don't make me pummel an invalid, Kuja."

"No pummeling from either of you." Mikoto grimly stated. "I will not have my work ruined over idiotic behavior."

"You sticking around here until I'm well again, are you?" Kuja asked his brother innocently.

Still pouting, Zidane grumbled. "Damn well have to, won't I, can't very well leave without Mikoto and Vivi."

"Plenty of time later for a good dust-up then. I'll have to have a good test of my recovery eventually. It only makes sense." It wasn't an offer he had to make twice. His brother's eyes were already alight with the possibilities.

Kuja smirked. "I can't imagine how you keep yourself toned on Gaia. You've already fought everything including a world-eating tree. After that your average thugs have to be child's play. I ought to score a victory just by default, you're so rusty."

"Well you don't really specialize at one-on-one fights do you?" Zidane quipped. "You won't be able to go for planetary strikes this time, so I naturally have you at an advantage."

Eyes wide, Mikoto gave them both a disbelieving stare. "The two of you are mad if you think I'm going to let you fight again."

"Not fight, little sis! Just a friendly bit of exercise, that's all." Zidane's normally captivating charms seemed to have no effect. Mikoto's natural cynicism probably made her immune.

"No!"

"Just a little fight?" The blond wheedled.

"No!" She reached across Kuja's shins to cuff his brother upside the head. "Absolutely no fighting!"

"Ow! Then explain why you're allowed to beat me up then! Isn't this fighting?" The pair fell to glaring and swatting each other like the kittens Laro usually teased about.

"If we might resume the play?" Kuja asked plaintively over their mutual growling.

As usual, if the formatting doesn't work, try finding the version posted on my website

http/www.roodinverse. scene is by special request. And also because it was just plain fun to write.


	33. Finis

Feather Flight: Finis (part 33)

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

Note:

If the formatting doesn't work, try finding the version posted on my website

http/www.roodinverse. weeks to get his feet under himself properly, and Kuja hadn't entirely put the idea of sparring with his brother out of his mind. He checked his reflection in the mirror after a long day preparing for the upcoming ceremonies, well pleased that his face was filling out to its usual shape. While it was clear he had been recently ill, no one would think to call him skeletal anymore.

He smirked at himself as he brushed his hair. It was already well on its way to resuming its original length. Zidane couldn't resist calling him 'girlier than ever' but the boy's opinion was hardly the one that mattered. Kuja could prove he was more than capable of beating the tar out of his brother at any point in the next few weeks. Presently he had a far better use for his energies. Setting his brush aside, he ran an appreciative hand over the state robes that had been quietly left in his sitting room. Clearly his 'hero' currency was still valued a little above the standard rate. The silks that had gone into the multilayered costume were worth a king's ransom.

He wondered at the irony of it. It wasn't as if the Selwe were fine connoisseurs of fashion. They wouldn't care what he was wearing to their surrender. The robes, he could only presume, were for the local's benefit or his own. Petting a corner of the brocaded sash as he rose, he couldn't find it within him to complain. The hardships of rebuilding the country would settle in soon enough, at the moment everyone was still buoyed on the general current of relief.

Kuja found himself constantly torn between wanting to look ahead at the problems to come and reveling in the current pleasures. From his lover's often harried expression as he returned from his regular planning meetings, he could see he wasn't the only one. Only his 'recovery' kept him from being in the thick of the post war politics. Secluded as he was, he had to rely on the reports from his visitors to keep him abreast of the news.

For one night at least, Laro seemed fairly unconcerned about the world outside their little apartment. Caught in the midst of his usual evening exercises, he looked up and offered a smile before getting back to his work. Kuja watched him quite happily. There was something terribly appealing about watching the former soldier perform one perfect push-up after another. It was his arms, the genome decided after careful thought. Watching the muscles shift and flex in Laro's arms inspired all sorts of notions for a man who until this morning had been expressly forbidden any sort of amorous attention.

Gently itching the skin on his arm where the last of the stitches had been pulled out, Kuja smiled at his own impatience. If not for the unholy hell Mikoto would have let loose on him, he'd have solved this problem a week ago.

His siblings, as well meaning and helpful as they had been, were ruinous to a person's love life. When not actively scolding him to behave, they were simply and unceasingly present. They had clearly learned to be cautious after his earlier flaunting of rules, he couldn't blame them. To their credit each had a plausible excuse for constantly dancing attendance on him. Zidane had merrily read through every single play in his collection as his bones re-knit. Mikoto, also underfoot, either demanded that portions of each narrative be recited aloud for her benefit or pestered Kuja with esoteric questions about the black mages that tested the limits of his memory.

In the odd moments that the two of them found something better to do with their time, the rest of the castle was more than ready to pay call to their resident celebrity. None of the visitors were unwanted, but they too seemed to occupy every free moment. Kuja was happy to spend his afternoons sitting with the Duke as he used to. The old man was as enjoyable as ever. The Dean and General Gerrick brought him news of the explorations. The scholars at the university wanted to discuss their latest inventions. He knew the name of every newly magic-enhanced healer, soldier, and citizen in the capital. It seemed more latent mages were being discovered every day. Luckily they seemed to be doing a decent job organizing and training each other. Kuja knew there'd be no way he'd ever have the stamina to oversee them properly.

With everything going on it was a wonder he managed to get any quiet time with Laro at all. First too sore to be tempted to break his promise to Mikoto, lately he'd just been too tired or busy. All in all he felt rather manipulated about the whole situation and resolved to do something about it. The first step had been to get his tiresome sister to relax her ban. The second step required a bit of cooperation from Laro. He considered how to broach the subject as he watched his lover work his muscles.

Serious thoughts couldn't hold his attention for long when presented with such a handsome view. Itching to play some small prank on his earnest soldier, Kuja pondered what Laro would do if he enhanced his workout with a few kilos of extra weight. It was an experiment he had often meant to try before. There had just never been a good moment for it.

Seeing that Laro was happily distracted, Kuja slipped closer until he was standing right along side. The silver haired man was kind enough to wait until Laro had reached the top of his push before leaning down to brace his own hands against the warm shoulders.

"Take that!" He let his arms carry most of his weight, hoping to surprise his significantly heavier opponent.

Sadly, the added pressure didn't have much of an effect. A quiet 'umph' was the only outward sign that the man noticed anything amiss at all. Pushing gamely down on Laro, Kuja realized it was a lost cause. The soldier was entirely made of muscle. It was part of his charm.

Turning his head slightly to give him a humor filled look, Laro paused in his count. "Is there something you want, kitten?"

"Conducting critical research." Resigned to being equated with 'small' and 'cute' in Laro's eyes, Kuja tested his lover's strength with one more push and then cheerfully seated himself on Laro's shoulders, letting the man take his entire weight.

"Hey now!"

"I can't possibly be too heavy. You didn't even budge a moment ago." Kuja gently rapped his knuckles against the back of Laro's head to scold him.

"I'm not accustomed to being a bit of furniture." The larger man groused.

"Really? And here I could have easily mistaken you for an end table…"

"Very funny." Laro huffed. "But what will you do if I move?"

"You wouldn't dare." He declared, and was promptly proven wrong. Sitting on top of someone's shoulders was far more disconcerting when the person was actually in motion. "I'll slip off and crack my skull, and it'll be your fault." Kuja warned playfully, more than willing to grab a hold Laro's waist and shoulder to keep that unhappy event from happening.

Unfortunately his fingers happened to graze one of the former-general's ticklish places. The man nearly barked his chin against the rug as he squirmed inadvertently. "Ack!"

Kuja could only sigh as his perch landed on the floor with a thump and a groan. "Some table you've turned out to be."

"You're in an odd mood tonight, kitten." Laro looked over his shoulder as he acclimated himself to his defeat. "I take it your experiment is concluded?"

"Yes indeed." Shifting to pull himself up by grabbing a convenient corner of the bed, Kuja reached down to offer a helpful hand to his lover. "I find that you had best keep to your current duties. Furniture isn't your strong point. Save when you perform the service of pillow, or hot-water bottle, both you do quite admirably."

"I'll keep that in mind." Stretching a little, Laro eventually gave in to temptation and captured his face between two large hands. "Pretty soon you'll be even more beautiful than the first time I laid eyes on you, and then what will I do?"

Tilting his head until he could rest his cheek against strong fingers, Kuja grinned. "Even I do not have infinite capacity to improve my looks. Eventually I will finish recovering and thus my looks will reach a boring equilibrium."

"I think I can make that sacrifice." Laro responded seriously, bending down to claim a chaste kiss. "If you were too beautiful I'd have to beat the rest of the country off of you every waking minute. It'd get tedious after a while."

"You could just to sweep me off to some remote island where nobody will find us." The genome teased, wrapping his arms around the conveniently stooped neck and shoulders. "You can lock me up in some little nest somewhere and have your lusty way with me from dawn to dusk, if that's you're pleasure."

Laro's eyebrow twitched, torn between amusement and knowing when he was being strung along. "Oh and I suppose you wouldn't complain in the slightest? No more library, no more intrigues, no more rich food, and fine silks from the big city?"

"I would be powerless to stop you, of course. Your passion would completely overwhelm me and leave me breathless with longing." He couldn't keep the smile completely out of his voice, but then he wasn't expecting to be taken seriously.

"You have been reading far far too many of those damned romances." The man gave a long suffering sigh. Moving to straighten himself up he found his companion unwilling to let go. Given the choice of pulling out of the genome's embrace, or lifting him bodily off the floor so as to maintain their connection, Laro eventually settled on the latter.

Kuja couldn't stop himself from making a small noise as he was hoisted up against Laro's chest for the two steps it took to navigate to their bed. He tried to cover for it by nuzzling along his lover's jaw. "Zidane plans to make a mint producing several of the sappier stories when he gets back home as 'undiscovered plays' from a famous writer from long ago."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me." Lowering them both to the bed in careful stages, Laro spared a smile for the theatrical scam. "I'll admit even after seeing them, I have a hard time imagining who would think to put together a troupe of criminal actors."

"You had a hard time thinking of me as a criminal too." He gently pointed out. "I have no doubt that there was plenty of evidence against me still littering the landscape of Gaia." Happily trapped between the arms Laro had braced against the mattress, Kuja looked thoughtfully up at him. "Sometimes I wonder why you stay faithful to me, knowing what you do."

"I should think that would be obvious." Dark hair and darker eyes meant the soldier's face was mostly unreadable in the lamplight. "I knew how I felt the minute I plucked you from the ocean."

The sudden intensity of the moment was almost startling after their easy banter. Kuja found his mouth dry when he tried to speak. "You've never once felt afraid of me?"

"Afraid?" Seemingly perplexed by the question, Laro distracted himself by playfully nipping at the fingers caressing his face. "There was never any reason. I've been afraid for you, god knows how many times." Bending down to kiss Kuja's forehead his voice faded to a murmur. "You haven't exactly made it easy for me on that account, you know."

"I'm sorry."

"The only times I might have been… alarmed by your abilities was on Gaia. People would point to some ruin or another and just mention off hand that it was your doing. But at the time I was too busy worrying about finding Zidane, finding a cure, finding a way home. It was only after we got back and they started putting you together that I could take the time to really decide what I felt about it all."

Kuja grimaced expressively, "I'm almost afraid to ask."

"I'm not entirely sure I can put it into words." Laro shrugged. "Sadness, I suppose. It was painful to think that you were the source of so much suffering. I spent a lot of time trying to understand your side of things. Zidane helped me put a fair amount of it together, Mikoto too. Puppeteer and puppet all at once, it seemed a cruel game on all sides."

"It was the life I knew." Kuja ran his hands along the warm strength of Laro's arms, pushing old regrets away. "If the cards had fallen differently, Zidane and I would have traded places. Or so he says."

"I believe him." Laro agreed quietly. "As you said, it was the life you knew."

"I'd like to think that I have recently found myself a better way to go about things." He laughed weakly.

His lover smiled as well. "Only for my sake, try to avoid any more attempts at martyrdom?"

"Even if I wanted to, opportunities from now on will be scarce to come by." Kuja countered cheerfully.

"Incorrigible." Laro settled for what he could get. No great sacrifice when the deal was sweetened by several kisses, one after the next.

Somewhere in the midst of the third playful meeting of lips the mood shifted to something far more serious. Kuja wrapped an arm around his lover's shoulders keeping their mouths locked together even as he used his other hand to blindly feel along the man's chest. Laro met his desire with equal energy, arms that had innocently held them slightly apart as he had braced against the bedding now shifted to gather the genome up in tight embrace. Trying to smoother his appreciative noises against Laro's tongue, Kuja wriggled and sighed to feel the soldier's hands rediscovering the skin of his back and thighs. Their various bits of clothing were a serious impediment, and he made an effort, with his lover's help, to at least shed the robe now tangled underneath of him.

"Masa. Kitten. I don't mean to spoil our fun, but your sister is going to skin me alive and wear me for a coat if we don't stop soon." Laro's breathless warning did nothing but make Kuja laugh, releasing the dark man's shoulders in favor of having two hands free to work on the ties to his pants with. Laro seemed more than willing to keep going. Stroking what sensitive bits of flesh he could easily reach Kuja caught his breath before quelling the last of that particular argument.

"The last of the damn stitches came out this morning. She said that the rest of me had made excellent progress… And I told her that if she continued to lay her unreasonable and inhumane strictures on me a moment longer, she would be solely responsible for my imminent destructive rampage."

The robe was swept of the bed with a careless toss. He shifted and wriggled until his pants could join it on the floor. Bare to the world the genome lay back and allowed Laro to investigate every one of his recently healed wounds reassuring himself and arousing them both by kissing the still tender skin.

"Destructive rampage?" The dark man glanced up at him as he ran appreciative hands over Kuja's hips, nuzzling just below his navel.

"Well if I cannot find release for my frustrations in the manner I personally prefer, producing large explosions is a legitimate secondary option." Gasping, the pale mage reached down to encourage the intimate touches.

"Can't have that." Laro agreed mildly, continuing his efforts to make Kuja cry out in earnest.

It took a considerable amount of time when all was said and done, and at least one nap in the middle. But by morning even Kuja was oblige to sleepily confess that he was completely sated for the first time in months. Exhausted, Laro still was cocky enough to smirk at the announcement before burrowing happily down in the damp sheets to catch a few hours sleep against his little lover's shoulder.

"If you really were the best of all men, you'd change the linens for me before passing out." Kuja critiqued to the quietly snoring man. Reaching out, he gently ruffled the thick black hair before kissing his forehead goodnight. "Ah well beggars can't be choosers."

"I trust you've relieved some of your frustrations last night?" Mikoto asked blandly as she and Zidane wandered into his room for their usual morning get-together.

The sun was out full force, warming his favorite chair and filling the room with colors after a few days of drizzling rain. Waiving at his siblings, he refused to budge from where he sat reading. They could make themselves comfortable without him. True to form, Mikoto took her usual seat on the bench next to him. Zidane absently made for his usual perch on the end of the bed, then gave it a pained look, and veered off to sit at the breakfast table instead.

"Took the edge off them, at least." Kuja smirked and allowed her to hassle him. After noting his temperature, blood pressure and god-knew how many other statistics, she relented with a sigh.

"No harm done, seemingly."

"Did you honestly think there would be?"

"You were… um… a little loud." She offered. Her poker-face was firmly in place.

He shrugged and resumed the book he had been reading when they came in. "Laro was louder."

Really, he decided; if she was planning to stay a few more weeks he ought to teach her how to gamble properly. She could clean up tidily in Trueno with her usual impassive veneer. Even confronted with near-bragging, she refused to do more than twitch an eyebrow in annoyance.

Zidane had a pretty good poker-face of his own, when he chose to use it. This morning he was decidedly grumpy looking, or perhaps just sleep deprived. It was hard to say. Still glaring at the bed, he humph'ed noisily. "Half the hospital probably heard you."

"Sex that good shouldn't be kept secret but shared with the world." Kuja replied airily. "It will give them something to aspire to when next they take a lover. Or perhaps motivate them to find a new one if their current partner cannot do the deed properly."

"Kuja!" Zidane blushed to the ear tips.

He looked up from his book, carefully hiding his amusement being a look of bland indifference. "Yes? Good lord Zidane, you're married aren't you? If you tell me you haven't made Garnet scream fit to wake the servants yet, I will be forced to say that you're clearly not doing your duty by her."

"Kindly leave my wife out of this conversation." Tail bristling with annoyance, Zidane shot him a glare promising doom.

"Too cruel, dear brother. If I leave your wife out, and you leave your wife out, who will consider the needs of the woman in question? She struck me as a very passionate girl the times that I met her. And she has had several years of growing-up since then!"

"Argh, you are insufferable." Zidane threw his hands up in despair. "Let me just say that she has been quite happy with relations, as they are, which I shall say, are none of your damn business!"

"And with that I must be content." Kuja closed his book and put on a look of pious solicitude. "Such a poor poor woman."

"No fighting!" Mikoto barely caught Zidane by the collar as the blond man flashed up out of his chair to attempt to strangle his older brother. "Absolutely no fighting!"

"Mikoto!" Dangling from her grip like a truant puppy Zidane's tail lashed in frustration. "He started it!"

"Play nicer with your pets sister, he'll strangle if you hold him like that." Kuja advised merrily.

"Maybe if you just hit him a little…" Mikoto relented as she shot Kuja a quelling look.

Zidane growled like a thwarted cat and rubbed at where his collar chafed his neck. "I think if he's healthy enough to scandalize an entire hospital-floor, he's more than healthy enough to spar a little with me."

Kuja set his book aside, manfully resisting the urge to bait his sibling further. "Oh? Is it that time already?"

"Given the amount of wasteland this place has, I'm sure we can find someplace out of the way to try a few tricks." Zidane promised grimly.

"Knowing your penchant for fire, someplace coastal might be ideal." Kuja mused. "That way we can extinguish ourselves, if needs require it. If Laro comes along, he can get a spot of fishing in while we have our fun. He does like to hook a line every now and again."

Zidane rolled his eyes. "Try to focus on the fight?"

"Fine," He grinned. "When and where? Of the two of us, you're the one with the ability to hop about at will, I'm sure you can find a worthy location."

"You know," His brother suddenly looked thoughtful. "Now that you mention it, I wouldn't be surprised if you could now manage it too. At least a little."

"Manage what?" Kuja blinked, distracted.

"Teleportation." Zidane continued to look thoughtful. "I mean, we were damn near identical before all this business… and now you've got a little of me in you too… so really, theoretically, it ought to be possible."

"I wouldn't even know where to begin." Kuja laughed.

"I could show you."

"Why?" He looked at his blond sibling in amusement. "What's in it for you?"

"Not sure." Zidane shrugged. "Want to try anyway? We can look for a good beach while we're at it."

Risking a glance in Mikoto's direction, Kuja couldn't detect more than her usual back-ground level of worry. If health was not a concern then his willingness was the only deciding factor. "I'm game. When do we start?"

"How about now?" Zidane grinned like the devil's child that he was.

A second of lurching motion passed and left Kuja staggering in a meadow. Having someone else carry him through a teleport was far more disorienting that traveling solo. The fact that it was his brother steering the magic and not just a fixed point-to-point transmission like he had used one or twice on Gaia only made it more nerve wracking. He braced a hand against Zidane's shoulder and caught his balance as he looked around. Tall grasses heather and birdsong, all unusual in their own right, spread out on every side. Squinting against the brilliant sunlight, he could just barely make out a hint of hills in the distance and a smudge that might have been forest.

"Where the hell are we now?"

"North." Zidane turned slowly to get his bearings. "The ocean is that way." He pointed after a moment. "The city is back that way."

Kuja glanced in the new direction and still couldn't fathom it. "I give up, how the hell do you know where you're jumping to?"

"Well I have a point of reference of course." His younger brother smirked.

"Where?" Baffled, Kuja felt his tail twitch in annoyance. He could wipe the smug look off his sibling's face, but it would really mess up the countryside. Better that they wait until they had a barren patch of land to work with.

"Close your eyes." Zidane advised. "Now reach out, you should be able to get a grasp on the really big features of the world. Cities have their own weight, from all the people living in them. I think I can even feel your buggy-friends on the other side of the planet, there are certainly a lot of them."

Slowly Kuja began to feel what his brother was talking about, testing the vague sensations and trying to map them to locations on the rough map in his head. He was marginally confident he could find his way back to the castle unaided, and also to the desolate patch of earth he had bombarded on the last day of the war. But there was something else, far closer, that was strong enough to almost drown the rest out. Reaching out tentatively, he opened his eyes in shock.

"I feel a crystal. A big one."

"Yup. That's the planetary shard." Zidane grinned. "I was wondering how long it would take you to notice."

"Strange that I never heard it before." He frowned. "I'm not that deaf."

"Wasn't there that," Zidane gestured vaguely at the sky, "Shield-thing that your bugs put up? That probably blocked its broadcasts something awful."

"It redirects energy from the Crystal in space." Kuja murmured to himself, putting the pieces together. Turning to his sibling he felt a fool for asking. "Do all planets have a shard imbedded in them?"

"All of them that have any life worth mentioning do." The blonde shrugged. "Near as I can tell."

"How fascinating." Kuja looked up, wondering if he would see any visible sign of the distant benign energy source. There wasn't anything visible, but the clear hum of crystalline power from the shard was comforting just the same. "Can we see it?"

"Sure." Zidane shrugged and gestured that he was to lead. "After you."

"What? You want me to…"

His brother laughed at his disbelieving expression. "If you can't aim for a target _that_ easy you'll never master any harder form of teleportation. You've watched me do it twice now. I'm sure you've figured out the mechanics. Of the three of us you're the genius."

"No that would be Mikoto." Kuja disagreed absently, turning the problem over in his mind. I'm just the strategist. You're the rough-and-ready one."

"Right." Zidane looked confused.

Kuja shrugged. "Well, here goes nothing." The crystal's song grew louder as he warped a portion of space around where they both were standing. The shard seemed more than happy to guide him to its resting place.

"I'd just like to say, I still think this is a terrible idea." Mikoto folded her arms across her chest and pursed her lips. Next to her Vivi adjusted his hat nervously and Laro blinked at the sudden sunlight. The three adapted in their own ways to finding themselves magically transported to a distant beach.

"They know better than to get into any serious mischief." The former general had meant for the statement to sound positive but it came out an almost-question. Kuja snorted at his lover's concern and took the blanket from under his arm. Together they spread it out on a clean bit of sand.

Zidane walked over to where the surf was rolling in, kicking off his shoes to study the small snails and bits of trash that washed ashore. The rest of them settled on the old quilt. Kuja sighed, enjoying the smell of salt on the air, resting from his teleportation. Even with his new mastery of the magic, and the shard's helpful guidance, moving a small crowd was a serious effort. He turned the possibilities over as he watched Laro putter with the random items he was unpacking.

With a bit of practice he could show up at the Selwe's surrender in style, he decided. The ceremony was already arranged for the upcoming solstice, and the current plan was that the aliens-become-neighbors would transport his delegation via their hover-plate technology. The solution had been boring, but practical since his allies had no way of crossing the ocean in any reasonable time-frame. Now, with his new trick mastered, there were distinctly new possibilities.

His skill wasn't anything close to Zidane's. There was no question of traveling between worlds, or through time. But it wasn't like he was going that far. If the venture tired him, there was little reason for concern. They would be picking fights once he had arrived, just one big push to get a delegation half way around the planet, some pomp and circumstance, and then another push to get everyone home. It was perfectly reasonable.

He watched as his brother picked his way back towards their group. "Well?" The blonde gestured at the empty expanse around them. "Going to back out now that we're all here?"

"Hardly." Kuja stood up, and primly began shedding his more decorative layers of clothing. "I'm curious to know how you fight when you don't have your friends to back you up."

"How about I tap Vivi and you can get your macho-man, and we go two on two?" Zidane smiled wickedly.

"That's hardly fair." Kuja rolled his eyes. "Poor Laro has never fought against a mage before."

"He'll figure it out, besides, you can do white magic as well as black. Vivi and I can only do damage. We're bound to run out of potions eventually and then you'll have us!"

"Only if my stamina doesn't run out first." He grimly rebutted. Finished with rolling up his sleeves, Kuja kicked off his shoes and joined his brother on the sand. "So how exactly do we start this? Count off ten paces, turn and fire?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Zidane rolled his eyes. "This is a brawl, not a duel. We're going to start it in the fine tradition of centuries past. Tapping Kuja playfully on the shoulder to distract him, Zidane made a spirited attempt to punch him in the face.

Almost too startled by the childish trick to dodge, Kuja angled his head just in time to miss most of the blow, an almost instinctive ball of wind forming in his hand as he balled up a fist against his brother's abdomen. The resulting hit, and tornado, sent his sibling cart-wheeling through the air several yards down the beach. Even before the blond hit the sand a tell-tale glitter of red enveloped him. Fire poured across the sand but Kuja wasn't standing around waiting for it, sprinting under the attack and after his brother, he jumped vertically at the same time Zidane did, transferring from land to air with a thought and taking their combat up into the clouds.

Laro tilted his head back and watched the low bank of storm clouds change color as spells flashed back and forth, cringing at the sight of one of the two brothers plummeting almost into the sea before recovering altitude with a series of purple and yellow flares.

Mikoto tutted softly to herself and opened up the hamper to retrieve a bottle of wine. "They're enjoying themselves, it seems."

"You don't think they'll do any real damage to each other, do you?" Laro winced as a clap of thunder swept across the water, the delayed result of a distant attack.

"If they do, the other one will drag them both back. As if I'm going to patch either of the idiots up? I don't know why they think I'm happy to redo all my work again." Growling as she uncorked the bottle, she poured as Vivi held the cups steady. "They can go on without an eye or with a permanent limp for the rest of their lives for all I care."

Laro accepted his cup with a meek 'thank you' and turned back to watch the fight. Not apparently content with the lower atmosphere, the two were taking their fight higher. Two faint pin pricks of light against the blue sky, and the trails of magic and steam arching behind them were his only clues as to where his lover was off to. He squinted up after them. "How high can they go?"

"Zidane?" Vivi clarified in his chirpy voice. "I would guess 'indefinitely', at least for a short period of time. He can't hold his breath forever. I don't know about Kuja."

"You don't think they'd go into space, do you?" Mikoto suddenly looked alarmed. "Those idiots. They're going to get frostbite."

"I don't think Zidane can get frostbite." Vivi argued cheerfully. Laro could only blink as the two fell to mild squabbling over who knew what about which sibling. After a little while he was certain he didn't want to know what the two brothers were up to, just so long as they came down eventually.

Standing up, he dusted the sand off his pants and folded his shirt up on top of Kuja's discarded coat and shoes. "Alright then. I'm going for a swim."

By unspoken agreement they had a temporary cease-fire once they reached the edge of orbit. The blue rim of the atmosphere glowed on the horizon, and without the layers of air to soften it, the light was crisp and white. Zidane, who had transformed into his high-energy form somewhere around four-thousand meters looked almost elegant with most of his usually-flamingo-pink fur bleached out by the pure light. Kuja lifted his hands up to study them as the world spun beneath them, admiring the sheen on his feathers. It was cold without the atmosphere's comforting shelter, bitterly cold, but beautiful just the same. With no air, they held their breath, untroubled by the vacuum around them.

_I must admit, it's a pretty little world, seen from a distance._ Zidane's thoughts carried effortlessly in the void.

_It needs some work. A great deal of damage has been done to it._ Looking at the land sliding past beneath him, Kuja could easily spot the rolling deserts of the central continent, and the massive burnt scar at its center. _I really didn't help matters any, in that regard._

_I don't think you made them any worse, really. The insects really did a number on the place._

Kuja smiled at his brother's rather amused tone. _True. They did have a few decades' head start on me._

_You're planning to fix things somehow, aren't you?_ Zidane gave him a speculative look.

_I have the means. And the knowledge. It would be a crime to stand by and watch the ecosystems crumble when I could nudge them back into alignment._

_I don't know._ Zidane shook his head_. You can't make something from nothing. These deserts are far more desolate than anything you and Garland_ _left on Gaia. You could channel energy into that wasteland for thirty years and get nothing to show for it._

_In that case I will have to make it so that it isn't a wasteland anymore, won't I_. Kuja shrugged, undaunted.

_How?_

Giving his brother a long look, Kuja weighed his sincerity. _If you're truly interested, I'll show you._

Tilting slightly, he let himself be drawn back down towards the planet. The rushing of air all around him replaced the absolute silence of space. He almost missed the purity of the vacuum. Beyond the noise and life of the planet there were only the twin songs of the crystals, one earth-bound and one hanging at the center of the galaxy. It was strange to realize that Zidane, stronger than he, would doubtless be able to hear the songs from any crystalline entities in the nearby solar system. Suddenly curious he wanted to ask how many other planets near by possessed a spark of life, but considering it further, he realized he didn't really want to know. Taking responsibility for this one planet was already shaping up to be the work of a lifetime, he didn't need any distractions.

Instead of angling for the beach, he let the winds carry him south, through a thick bank of clouds to an equally desolate stretch of land. The only difference was that the storms that had been idly hanging off shore for Laro were steadily raining down in this distant spot. Zidane landed next to him, wincing at the drizzle. His brother's gaudy pink feathers had dissolved even as his own had vanished, leaving them both susceptible to the elements. They stood in the rain and stared at each other. Kuja couldn't interpret his brother's expression, but for his own part could only wonder how his life could have brought him full circle. They had had their first genuine encounter on Gaia in just such a steady rainstorm. The desert was a far cry from the destroyed kingdom of Cleyra, but even so, the parallel was strange.

"I owe you. For the lesson earlier." Kuja offered, slicking back his wet bangs. "So I will try to explain."

"You don't owe me anything. Consider it an exchange of information. You showed me how to defeat the Iifa tree that time." Copying his gesture, his sibling attempted to tame his own mane.

"And since then you've saved my life. I think the two counter-balance. I need to give you something else, for the teleportation. It doesn't amuse me, Zidane, to be in your debt."

"If you say so." The blond cheerfully gestured for him to continue. "But does it have to be in the rain?"

"It'll help, yes." Kuja smiled wetly and held out his hand to draw attention to the muddy desert all around them. "Even where there is nothing, there is still the potential to be 'something'. So long as the planet's crystal exists, the memory of life remains, doesn't it?"

"You're saying you can _make_ life with just this? There's nothing here but grit and water!" Zidane wiped his unruly hair back from his face again, and stared at him. "That's crazy!"

"What is everything made of? Bits of 'grit and water' and spirit, that's all." Kuja countered. "Look at the black mages and tell me that life cannot be created with only minimal materials. Clearly they live. What did I make them out of if not straw, cloth and spirit?"

"But," Zidane frowned, trying to reason it out. "But the black mages were made with Mist! We don't have Mist!"

"Mist is just an artificial condensation mechanism. Think of it like super-dense spirit. It's a symptom of what I'm talking about, not a necessary component. Spirit energy is everywhere. If there was ever life someplace, the spirits remain in some way connected. What is needed is that raw materials and energy are combined to form a vessel for spirit. Given encouragement, it will inhabit said vessel, and become, for lack of a better word, 'alive'."

"Like the mages?"

"Hopefully not as stubbornly moralizing. But yes, that's an extreme example. I did years of experimentation on Gaia and Terra. I guess I could be an inter-planetary expert on the subject." Kuja grinned at his brother and knelt on the damp ground. "Want to see?"

"Hell yes!" Zidane crouched down in the sandy mud to get a closer look. "What are you going to make?"

"Some sort of dune-grass I think _ammophila arenaria_ or the like It would be the most appropriate thing to start with. The soil here needs stabilizing or all the nutrients will be washed out to sea within months." Kuja ran his fingers thoughtfully over the mud. Looking up he saw Zidane's disgruntled expression. "What? You have a better idea?"

"Isn't grass a little boring?" The blond complained. "Make something cooler, like a chocobo!"

Kuja frowned. "And what is the bird going to eat? Where will it sleep? What will it do with itself?" He gestured around them at the general desolation and Zidane, following his questions looked chagrined.

"It's better to work in small steps, otherwise the energy refuses to take, or worse, it does, and gains life, only to die for lack of supporting structures. Everything is based on a system, Zidane. The trick is to learn those systems and then mimic them. Otherwise you're just wasting energy and encouraging entropy."

"But why does 'doing it right' always have to mean starting with the boring stuff? Plants and bugs and small critters just don't have any style." His sibling sighed. "This suddenly seems more like work than fun."

"There is a certain attention to detail required." Kuja ignored Zidane's grumping, focusing instead on the mud beneath his fingers. "And effort." Communicating with the shard, Kuja found a memory of the type of plant he was seeking, and reproducing the pattern with the soil as his medium. He slowly coaxed the organism into existence, willing a seed to form, germinate and grow. Zidane watched quietly as one green shoot slowly sprouted from the mud, enlarging and growing at an accelerated rate thanks to the energy the crystal was providing. At length a proper long-leafed tuft of grass stood rather forlornly on the rainy beach.

"Bad ass!" Zidane crowed, forgetting his earlier demands for something more interesting. "Can I try?"

"Sure." Kuja gestured idly at the muddy swath of desert as it stretched towards distant mountains. "One down. Only four-hundred-million to go. Knock yourself out."

Sticking out his tongue as he focused on the task, Zidane eventually managed another stubborn looking tuft of beach-grass. He sat back on his heels and let out the breath he'd been holding. "It's hard!"

"Yes."

"You're really going to grow grass all across the deserts?"

"It's a start." Kuja shrugged and willed another plant into existence. "Then, as you rightly surmised, I will start on an assortment of necessary insects. If the grass is successful, and the weather patterns hold, I'll follow the cycle and bring in small reptiles and rodents, then larger plants, maybe a few ungulates along the way. I rather like deer, they're handsome animals."

"It'll take you a hundred years!" His brother laughed.

Kuja shrugged again. "Hundreds, I suppose. It wasn't like I had anything else planned." His brother made an eloquent face at the implication that neither of them really functioned on the same clock as the rest of their companions anymore. Thanks to Zidane's transfusion, Kuja was uncertain if he would even age the way others would. His brother existed outside of time in a very literal sense, but it was hard to say if that was a physical characteristic he could inherit by blood.

"No lounging around on silken cushions being waited on hand-and-foot?" Zidane eventually teased.

"Building a system like this doesn't happen overnight. I'm sure there'll be plenty of time for the occasional lounging." Kuja smirked at the imagery. "Although, knowing Laro, any spare moments will be dedicated to building and sailing ships. He is ocean-mad by nature."

"You told him and your other friends about this plan yet?"

"No. But I will. Soon."

They stared down at the grass and out at the wasteland again, watching the water form rivulets through the sandy soil as it ran to the sea. By silent agreement, they began a silent competition of grass growing. The hill-side slowly filled with a sort of loose-packed green meadow, looking more like a dune than ever. Eventually exhaustion began to get the better of them. Zidane flicked a finger at the dirt, summoning one last plant before rolling his shoulders and declaring himself beaten. Kuja glanced over at his sibling, watching Zidane's more expressive features as he worked through whatever it was on his mind. Deciding to distract him, Kuja cleared his throat. "Any idea of when you'll be heading back?"

"Tired of us already?" The comeback was instantaneous. Zidane grinned over at him.

"Naturally." He flicked his tail. "Besides, Mikoto is probably missing her village and you _ought­_ to be missing your wife. It's been over a month."

"Yeah." Zidane shrugged. "Guess I do. Not like we can do much else for ya, at any rate. You sure you don't want to come back with us?"

"Back? To Gaia?" Kuja laughed in amazement. "God no. Thank you, I mean, for the offer. But no. You two don't need me. And I'm certain that nobody _else_ would want me there. No. I'm better off here." Curious to see if his sibling would be offended by his blunt refusal, he watched the blond with interest.

His brother frowned a little, eyes firmly fixed on the ground, digging his toes into the mud. At length Zidane sighed, "Suit yourself. Let's go back and let the others know we're done trying to kill each other. At least it's dry there. And they have food."

In the end Kuja's strange little family waited until just after the accords were signed to make their departure. Zidane and Mikoto had expressed interesting meeting the Selwe queen, and Kuja found that in an odd way he had gotten used to having them around, and so was in no hurry to egg them to leave. Not that he ever planed to tell his ego-maniac brother that he'd miss him. Together they had transported a fair-sized deligation half-way round the planet to what the Selwe had set up for their capital. It was a far cry from what Kuja had witnessed in orbit months before. At least partly-expecting the alien wonders, he could watch the rest of his group staring about themselves in awe.

For the weeks after revealing his plans to Zidane, Kuja spent almost all his time in communication with the Selwe, a tacit apology for not maintaining relations during the early stages of his recovery. Speaking with the Queen via the remains of her network of crystals was nothing compared to meeting her face to face however. The insects had clearly made progress on building their new capital on the southern continent. With the wreckage of their starship shielding the fledgling-city on one side, and a series of arid mountains sheltering it on the other, the location seemed remarkably suited to their needs. Strong sun baked the clay-soil underfoot and bleached the rocks a mellow gold. The semi-transparent domes that the bugs constructed reminded Kuja quite a bit of Brambala's rather organic shape. He could tell from watching Mikoto that she too felt the similarity. Both the city and the insects settling into it favored iridescent shades of green and blue. It was apparently a bit jarring to the eye of his human companions. Still, there was a clean beauty to all of it.

The queen herself was much the same. Easily three times as large as any of her agents or servants, the giant insect still managed to emote a sense of stressed-earnestness and frailty that did more to encourage human empathy than any pretty speeches she made. She was as unalike her predecessor as it seemed possible. Rather than rules-centric orthodoxy, the queen's attitude seemed to be one of 'try it and see.' Kuja had high hopes for her guiding the remaining aliens into a new form of civilization. The war was definitively over. Looking around at what the aliens were accomplishing, Kuja allowed himself to feel a little smug as the council came to an end. It was too much to hope that everyone would keep their word and behave for the rest of time, but peace-for-the-moment was assured. If he truly was going to live as long as his idiot brother, he'd be able to do his part to ensure a few centuries of quiet, at least.

It was afterwards, as he was slowly mustering the will-power to rally everyone for the long jump homeward that Zidane surprised him. "Count us out, Kuja. No sense wasting energy if you don't have to."

"How so?" He looked at his sibling in confusion. "You want to play tourist a bit longer here?"

"Now's as good a time as any, right?" His brother and sister exchanged a look. Vivi also murmured in agreement. "No sense going half way around the world first when we can leave just as easily from here."

"You're going home?" Laro came up beside him, along with several of their alien companions, echoing the thoughts Kuja couldn't seem to find voice for. "Now? From here?"

"Yup." Zidane shrugged. "Mikoto, Vivi, and I talked it out last night. She's confident that Kuja isn't going to fall to pieces if we go." Turning to his older brother, he shrugged. "And like you said before, we've got things to do on Gaia. We can't hang around here forever."

Mikoto rubbed one arm anxiously. "We will stay in contact, somehow. Zidane feels it might be possible via the Crystal."

"The time differential might be absurd." Kuja murmured, distracting himself from the sudden ache of loneliness with the mind-boggling prospect of inter-planetary communication. Seeing that his sister was already looking rather forlorn he schooled his voice to have more confidence than he actually felt. "I'm sure that if the brat and I put our heads together we can come up with something. At worst you can bribe him to bring you to visit at some point."

"Yes. There is that." Her expression lightened, even as Zidane rolled his eyes. Holding out her hand gravely, she clasped hands with him with due ceremony. "Kuja, I am glad that we had a chance to speak to each other, outside of Brambala. As much as I thought I wanted you to return with me, I see now that they need you here, just as the genomes need me. Thank you for your advice. It has given me much to think about."

He raised his free hand to ward off any potential over-sharing. It was uncomfortable enough to say goodbye to them without the heart-to-heart confessions. Zidane was already looking at the woman curiously. He didn't want to be on the same planet as the two should she try and explain. "Thank me if things work out, not before. Just make an effort to enjoy yourself a little?"

His brother at least shared his out look on the awkwardness of saying goodbye. He kept his farewells to a half-smile and a more energetic handshake than Mikoto had offered. "Good luck."

"And to you." Kuja echoed his smile. "I'd tell you to give your wife my regards, but I don't think she'd appreciate it."

"I'll tell Beatrix you asked after her, but I don't think Steiner will appreciate it." Zidane quipped in turn.

Vivi patted his pocket, showing where the notes regarding their research were carefully kept. "I will carry your information home. We will discuss what will come of it. But I think we must try to become more than we currently are."

"In order to better take your future into your own hands? I should wish you good luck too. But I have a hunch that you and your kin will manage just fine." Kuja bent to shake the clownishly-large hand proffered. "For what it is worth, I am looking forward to seeing how you will all choose to live. Make sure Zidane sends me any news."

He stood back and watched Laro say his own farewells all around, as well as one or two of the courtiers. Soon however his siblings joined hands with the little black mage, and were carried upwards within a column of light. The courtyard, for all its alien beauty seemed a little darker by comparison.

Kuja blinked, feeling a suspicious itch from his eyes. He refused to do something as childish as mourn in public. Instead he focused on the task at hand, marshaling his own group to gather in front of him for their long trip back to the castle. The Selwe bowed gingerly to him as he bent space around his companions. Laro squeezed his hand gently in encouragement.

Looking up at the dark man, he smiled to see his worried expression. Kuja twined his fingers tighter with the strong hand holding his. "Time for us to go home?"

Laro nodded. "Definitely."

Right. At first I didn't like the ending. Then, looking at it later, I did!

That's all folks. Thanks for the fish.

As usual, if the formatting doesn't work, try finding the version posted on my website

http/www.roodinverse. 


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